Broca Baby
by Nadie2
Summary: This story is an AU in which Jack gets infected with the Broca virus earlier resulting in something neither he nor Sam is prepared for. Together they deal with the demons of their past while preparing for an unexpected future. This story is angsty in the beginning, but will have a strong Sam/Jack pairing.
1. Broca Virus

Note: I treat Air Force regulations different than most fanfiction writers, and even my earlier writings. This is because I read them online, over and over, and I was confused, because based on what I read Sam and Jack could date. It's just officers and enlisted people who can't date. So I asked one of my readers Stalkere who is actually IN the Air Force. And it turns out I was right. The Air Force regs would not prohibit a relationship between Sam and Jack since both are officers. However, since they are on the same team it would be frowned upon. But not illegal. No one would be court-martial, or put in jail or anything. Worst case scenario one of them gets moved to SG-2.

Note 2: No Pete I promised, so Pete haters won't have to worry.

Note 3: Sam and Jack will be together. I promise. But call up your high school lit teacher and ask him/her what the plot of every story needs. He/she will tell you conflict. So it's not going to be easy! If it was, you'd be bored.

Note 4: I'm done with Sam and Jack being sixteen years apart. I don't care, not in my story. Facts be damned.

**Jack**

Daniel wanted to stay on that planet longer. I know, because he told me so. Sam wanted to too. I know, because she made a face. If she's ever going to be a Colonel or a General she's going to have to get gutsier. I'll have to help her with that. That's what superior officers do right? Make there…ah….men advance beyond their command.

Ok, focus Jack. Act as bored as possible. If you act really bored most scientists stop talking.

"I'm sorry sir, I know I'm a guest at this party, but I have to protest," Daniel says respectfully. Someone taught this boy to suck up.

"Let me guess, Doctor. This is the science versus military discussion again?" Hammond asks.

"Well…yes. This mission was a perfect example of my argument. We should have stayed on that planet longer. It was the perfect opportunity to study Minoan culture."

I'm about to let out a yawn which would stop the conversation cold, but Carter is actually participating in the conversation. I need to encourage that, "Not to mention primitive man."

"This really isn't necessary, Doctors, I've already—"Hammond says.

"Sir, would you let me finish, please?" he says. Ok, so the guy could use a primer on sucking up. But first I have to teach him how to shoot that gun the Air Force makes him carry around.

"Okay, um, the people on the dark side are pre-Stone Age, but the people on the light side are clearly from the Bronze Age, so what better opportunity to study the Broca Divide?"

Daniel delivers the line with great excitement, like we are supposed to know exactly what he is talking about. I let out the yawn I have been saving for just such an occasion, "The what? Excuse me." I say covering my mouth.

"Broca Divide. Pierre Paul Broca was a nineteenth century anthropologist, he founded…" Sam is talking. Standing up for herself. Muttering nonsense. I tune her out.

"Should I start the debriefing sir?" I say pointing out that what they had to say was extra, superfluous to life as we know it.

"Well, that would be a good idea, Colonel."

"Now just, just wait a minute," Daniel interrupts.

"Dr. Jackson you're wasting your breath, you've already won the argument."

"But I have to insist that you, w—, wha—, wha—, what? I've already won?" A huge grin covers his face. Daniel doesn't smile enough. I'll have to work on that.

"The president agrees with you. He's asked that we evaluate the scientific and cultural value of each mission from now on," Hammond says.

Great. "Oh, for crying out loud." Did everyone forget that there is an enemy out there? I rub my eyes.

"That's great," Sam says with a self satisfied tone in her voice.

Suddenly one of the Marines jumps across the table, grabs Teal'c by the neck and says, "Wonder how that thing in your gut would like its neck ripped in half."

"Please release me, Lieutenant Johnson," Teal'c says strangely unaffected by the whole ordeal.

Makepeace jumps out of his chair, and orders him to let him go.

"Not until the Goa'uld apologizes," the Marine sneers.

"Lieutenant Johnson take your seat now," Hammond commands. He obviously thinks he's going to be obeyed, because he doesn't make a motion to stop it. Johnson swings his arm out to hit Teal'c. The punch lands in the palm of Teal'c's big hand. He closes his meaty hand around the Marine's large one, but even a large hand is dwarfed by Teal'c's.

"General, I would prefer to not hurt this man," he says looking with confusion at the General.

Hammond nods his head, but there aren't enough security people in the room. So I stand up to help get Johnson under control.

"What is your problem, Marine?" Hammond demands. Johnson doesn't say anything. He foams at the mouth. Hammond turns away from him, "Take him to the infirmary, tell them to keep him in restraints and check him out."

**Sam**

There he is. Shirtless. There are others, wrapped only in a towel, and he has his sweatpants on already. But they aren't him.

I slam the locker shut, and he sees me.

"Carter," he says embarrassed as he hurries to cover up his chest with a shirt. Damn fabric. I want to rip it off him. "Sorry, didn't know you were in here."

I thought he would know what I want by my eyes, but he doesn't even look at them. I can't wait for subtle. I want him now.

He's turned away from me, so I push my hand hard against his shoulder forcing him to turn toward me. My lips make contact with his, and both my hands move up to hold his head. When he doesn't try to escape I let one hand fall from his face, and grasp him under the arm pit, pulling him closer to me. He's so surprised he doesn't pull away or participate at first. Then his hand comes up behind my head, and his mouth opens to let me in.

It's only a fraction of a second, then he pulls away muttering, "wait a minute," into my mouth. I grab a fistful of shirt so he doesn't move too far away from me.

"What's going on?" he asks in surprise.

"I want you," I inform him. Grabbing him tight, because this time I am expecting him to push me away.

"Why? I mean no!" he says still in my mouth. Then he pushes me away with two strong hands on my shoulders. But he's only using a fraction of his strength. All that strength and he is still gentle.

"Carter, this is a little out of line, don't you think?" He says with a drill sergeant voice. I grab two fistfuls of his shirt, and fling him onto a bench. I climb on top of him, a leg on each side of his body. My dog tags dangle in his face.

"Want me?" I ask.

"No. No," he starts to protest. So I stop the protest with a kiss. If he isn't going to say something I want to hear, I'd rather he didn't say anything at all. He pushes me away so he can finish his thought, "not like this, for crying out loud."

I ignore him. He isn't really fighting back, and I want to point that fact out to him, so I don't try to restrain the hands that pushed me away. I just grab onto his face with both of my hands and go in for another kiss. And lower my body down on his. That was probably a bad move. Up until then he was getting caught up in the moment, now he remembers where we are.

He cups my shoulder with his hand for just a second, and then the pushes me gently away. "Carter! What's gotten into you?" He shouts.

All this talking, seriously! Other uses for a mouth Jack! Jack. I start kissing him again, and he wraps a hand around my back. Good, he's finally getting into it. It's sort of insulting that I had to take the lead this much. He rolls me over so I'm under him on the floor, his hand is cradled under my neck.

The first second, when I hit the ground and he lands on top of me hurts. But I like this.

"It's about time you saw a doctor, Doctor," he says. His mouth goes close to my neck, and I am sure he is about to kiss me on my neck. He doesn't, but pulls me up.

"No," I mutter and my voice sounds pitiful in my ears, "Jack," I say slamming him against a locker. His self-control is finally shattered.

He pushes me up against a locker. Our whole bodies are in contact, and I can tell that he does want me.

"God Jack," I say trying to pull him even closer, even though I'm pretty sure he can't actually get any closer to me.

"Carter," he closes his eyes. I think he's fighting for control again. I nibble his ear, and the self-control shatters all over again.

"I like your tank top," he says as his fingers ball up the edges of it, and pull it over my head.

"Then why are you so eager to get rid of it?" I tease. Then his lips fall onto my neck, just like I wanted him to before. His tongue, my skin. Way better than I thought it would be. After that, things get a little bit hazy.

**Daniel**

"Why are they in the infirmary?" I demand, trying to push past the doctor. I could push past the doctor. Fraiser is tiny. But I have a feeling she'd find ways to make me pay for my rudeness if I did.

"Dr. Jackson, you need to calm yourself down before I will even think about letting you in my infirmary."

I take a deep breath, "What happened to my friends?"

"They seem to be infected with the virus; I'm worried you might be as well after that emotional outburst."

"Calm, not infected. Did they fight like Johnson did with Teal'c?"

"Not exactly," and I detect an unprofessional smirk on her face.

"What?" I prompt.

"They were found in the locker room…without their clothes."

Wow! "Ah, they all right?"

"Yeah, they haven't hurt each other. In fact Jack is so protective of her we couldn't separate them. Just as well, since they are running out of private rooms.

"Can I see them?" I ask.

She looks really uncomfortable. "That is really not a good plan."

And I hear Sam's voice squeal and Jack's grunt and figure out why it probably isn't a good plan. Apparently they didn't leave it in the locker room. I can feel my face turning bright red.

"We would separate them if we could," Janet says apologetically.

"I think I'll take off," I say blushing. "Let me know if there is any change."

**Janet**

At least if I knock on the door I can guarantee they will stop. I can't guarantee they'll be clothed. But hey, I'm a doctor.

"Doc. Doc?" O'Neill asks with something so grunt like that I am not quite sure I can call it speech.

"Did you say something?" I ask.

"Give more…" he begs extending his own arm. Then he takes Sam's arm, and extends it as well. Pushing the vein we put injections in closer to me.

"What? Give more what?" I ask.

"More," he insists thrusting Sam's hand closer to me. She looks at him. I don't think she understands what is going on, but she does understand that he is upset. She takes the hand he isn't holding, and runs the back of her knuckles across his face.

"An injection? You mean you want more sedative?" I ask. I shake my head at him, "You've already had more than the maximum safe dosage, twice as much as anyone else because you've been more violent."

"Give," he says thrusting her vein forward.

"No. It's not safe."

"Give! Give."

"Why are you so insistent?" I ask him.

"Save her," he whispers.

What does it matter? An overdose of sedatives is not that much more likely to have a negative effect on him than allowing the odds of them damaging themselves if I don't give it to them. Although, they wouldn't hurt each other. Except maybe some friction burns.

"Must have been in a lot of pain," I explain to a nearby orderly.

"Janet," she says barely understandably.

"So, you are still in there somewhere," I say.

"What?" she struggles to ask. I hate to see her like that.

"This is interesting. Enough sedative must knock back the primitive mind. Listen to me. I am not going to be able to keep you at this level for very long; it is too dangerous. It could cause permanent brain damage."

"What?" she asks. I lost her.

"It's a parasitic virus. All we can tell is that is seems to mess with body chemicals, all of them. Testosterone levels skyrocket thus the aggressive behavior. It's histamine lytic which means it breaks down histamine, we—wh—"

"Experiment. Save Jack."

"Experiment on you? I'm sorry I can't do that."

Jack gets very agitated, "Use me," he pleads.

"Look, sedatives aren't a cure," I say. "When I find a cure…we'll see."

**Jack**

Oh that's a nice smell. Strawberry and salt. No…not salt. Sweat. My eyes open to what I'm pretty sure is my second-in-command's neck. I don't want to sit here and analyze exactly how I know my second-in-command's neck on sight.

Foggy memory. Sam's voice saying, "I want you." Being slammed onto a lab bench. That scent. Her strawberry shampoo. Not salty. Yet.

God, what did I do? My second-in-command. Sam.

Spit fire woman's lib. After Captain Hansen. I'm not the first guy to screw her up. Pun unavoidable.

Sarah.

My stomach turns at that thought. I sit up carefully. I'd rather Sam not wake up. I pull the covers over her, and turn away.

Sarah. It feels like I betrayed her. But I know she wouldn't see it that way. She had to stop loving me, or she'd be broken beyond repair. To lose a son…and then to watch a husband become a lump…it was too much. She couldn't do it. No one could.

Sarah wouldn't see it as betrayal. But it's always betrayal to be with one when you love another. We've been divorced for four-hundred sixteen days. Still, it's too soon.

I stand up and don some clothes I've scattered across the floor.

"Teal'c! Doc! Open the door! Teal'c!" I whisper.

"Colonel O'Neill?" he asks.

"I'm fine, back to being myself. Just open up."

He lets me out, and Dr. Fraiser's grim face tries to get me into an examination room. I glance at the room we were in without meaning to. "Janet, I just need to…"

"I understand, Sir," she says. Janet Fraiser is doctor from her head to her toes, and though that might not be a great distance, she gets a lot of doctor in there. But right now, she's shoving all that doctor aside, and is just my friend, "You'll come back later?"

I nod.

"Sir, the Airman that found you…edited his report."

"I'd like to thank him," I say.

She nods, muttering his name, "You can't do it until the cure is distributed."

I glance at the room I left, "She gonna be alright?" I mutter.

"I'll take care of her, Colonel," she assures me.

"And her career?" I ask looking at her for the first time.

"Yes, sir." I've read Janet's file. Not strictly in my privy, she's not on my team. But if you pretend never to do even your required paperwork you can get access to files you wouldn't get any other way.

She and Sam have a lot in common, really. Janet went through a real women's lib thing when she and her husband split. So much the comments got written into her annual reviews. Although I doubt she ever said, "just because my reproductive organs are on the inside…" only Sam could pull of a line like that.

But files don't tell you enough. The SGC has only been in open for two months. Not long enough to know who you can trust and who you can't. Except…I already know my team. Someone saves your life, and you know them.

Janet…she saved my life.

"Ok," I say.

**Sam**

Something's missing, but I can't remember what. My arms move trying to find it.

Jack.

Jack! Oh my God! I look around the room.

He's gone.

So are his clothes.

The memory comes back, altogether too clearly. My begging him for sex. Him refusing, until the virus took him over.

I raped my commanding officer. My career is over. My life is over.

What did I do to Jack? No, Colonel, Sir. You're going to need that professional distance even more now.

I pull the blankets over my head. Not getting up. Hibernating. Yep, that's my new life plan.

"Sam?" I hear a voice cautiously. Dr. Frasier. God, how many people know what I did to him?

"Sam, are you back to being…a human?" she asks pulling the blankets away gently. Yeah, that didn't work when I was five, didn't really believe it would work now.

"Did he press charges?" I ask barely audibly.

She looks complete confused for a second, then her eyes widen in understanding. "The Colonel?"

No, all the other people I raped while being a cave woman. I nod.

"No Sam," she says, "He…just wanted to make sure I looked after you. I don't think….I mean Sam, you two should probably talk. I think your perception of events might be different."

"Dr. Fraiser, I…" I have to tell her. If she doesn't know. Military duty.

"I know, and he knows, and he wasn't mad. More like worried about you."

"He's ok?" I ask.

"He seemed fine, wanted to put off his check-up." I sit up pulling my knees up by my head. "Are you ok?" she asks concerned.

I've never been good at making friends. It comes from the whole military brat childhood. By the time you get it figured out in one place you are somewhere new. And then you are somewhere new all over again. And then I joined the Air Force. I haven't been in Colorado Springs long enough to have friends, and the ones I had in D.C. weren't good enough friends to stretch across the country.

Which mean I'm going to have no one to talk to about this. Not that I could anyway, classified. But at least…say I had a drunken hook up with my boss or whatever. If my mom was still alive…but I'm not about to have this conversation with either Dad or Mark.

"Fine, can I go home?"

"Sam…if you wanted to file charges…" she says awkwardly.

"What?" I say incredulously.

"I mean, I guess we don't have the details on what went on. We…tried to separate you. I guess we should have tried harder. But Jack was so protective, and you were so clinging…" She looks right at me, "I'm sorry Sam."

I shake my head, "It was my fault."

"Sam…the virus…" she tells me.

"He wasn't the first guy I saw. He tried to keep his control. It's my fault. I…" but as many times as I've said it in my head, I can't actually say it out loud.

"Sam, no one is being held responsible for what happened under the virus. We didn't even record what happened between you."

"So I'm just supposed to forget the fact that I raped my commanding officer?" I ask.

"Oh Sam," she says pulling me into a hug. And I feel something I haven't felt since my mom died. "You didn't do that. Not even close. The Colonel feels guilt just like you do. This won't be easy to get over, but you can't go calling it THAT."

And at least I have someone to talk to.

**Jack**

As much as I don't want to see Carter I have to. She didn't go with us on the mission to rescue Daniel, who apparently got lost sometime after I got infected. I hope she isn't still sick. And I really hope the reason she didn't come isn't that she's traumatized by what I did to her. She's my second-in-command for crying out loud. And as much as I really like Sam…I don't love her. Not after Sarah.

Carter doesn't even know about Sarah. She couldn't, because I don't talk about Sarah. I don't talk about her, because I miss her. But it would easily seem that I don't talk about anyone, because I don't have anyone.

And I don't.

Anymore.

But that's not an excuse. And neither is this virus, because if I hadn't already felt something for Sam, none of this would have happened. Even caveman Jack could have resisted someone he didn't like. But I did like her. Told her that when we first met.

"I adore you already, Captain," soft and light so she would think I was joking. But I knew at least, that I wasn't.

I fell in love with Sarah our first conversation.

Not that I'm in love with Sam. I can't be since I'm still in love with Sarah. I'd better be careful, because they are getting all tangled up in my mind.

Janet puts down whatever she was working on as soon as I enter the room. She's wearing a look of concern on her face. Crap. Sam isn't better.

"Are you ok sir?" Janet asks.

I nod my head.

"You're here for your check-up," she says.

"Is Sam ok?" I ask. I can't look at her as I say it, and I know she's smart enough to know it.

"She's fine; she woke up about a half hour after you did. She let me run a full check-up on her," Janet says pointedly, "And everything came out fine."

"Good," I mutter, "and…ah…how was she?"

Janet smiles, and gives me an approving look. Yeah, I care about Sam's mental as well as physical health. "She's worried you plan on pressing charges."

"What?"

"Blames herself."

Of course she does. "Wasn't her fault Doc. If anyone's getting charged it would be me."

"She wants to ignore it. What do you want?" she asks looking me directly in the eye. She's really not the one I need to talk to this about. But I need to answer her. For myself.

"We don't have a whole lot of choice in that matter."

She leaves a look at me, "You're both officers."

She's talking about the frat rules of course. I know a relationship between Sam and I isn't technically illegal. But it would be frowned upon. Potentially career altering, particularly, for her. There are still a lot of bigots in the Air Force unfortunately, and whatever happened, it would hurt Sam more than me.

She doesn't need to deal with another bigot, ever again. The guy she almost married, he was an Air Force Bigot. He's the reason she thinks men are out to get her. I won't destroy her career. She wouldn't heal from that…so soon.

"We couldn't be on the same team."

"No, but either of you can request transfer."

It sure as hell isn't going to be Sam giving up SG-1. Even for SG-2. Could it be me?

It could.

That isn't what is keeping us apart.

I still love my wife. My ex-wife.

I'm still not over Charlie. I've just gone back to work. I still have to bribe myself to get out of bed in the morning. I still need four beers to survive a night at home, and more for a weekend. I still sometimes think about what it would be like to die.

Sam is young, and beautiful, and brilliant. She needs someone able to love her, and heal her, and give her kids.

I can just barely survive.

"I think…ignoring would be best," I mutter.

Janet looks disappointed. "Ok, nothing official was recorded. You should probably…talk to her."

**Sam**

"Sir," I say in surprise. I'm not sure how I feel about the Colonel in my house. I do know we need to talk. "Come in."

"This won't take long. I just wanted to see," he shifts from foot to foot, "You ok, Sam?"

"Of course, how are you?" I ask.

"Fine, I just…Janet said you thought it was your fault. It wasn't."

"It certainly wasn't yours," I tell him.

"Ok, we'll blame the virus. I just wanted to know. Are you ok with…" does he want to start a relationship? What if he does? What can I say? Will he ask me to leave SG-1? Because if that is his plan…I can't do it, "leaving it in the locker room."

"and the isolation room," I point out.

He nods. "I just wanted to know..."

"Yeah…" I say cutting him off.

"We're back to working with each other, otherwise I could request transfer."

"You'd have to be crazy to ask to get transferred off SG-1," I tell him.

"Are we ok?" he asks scratching that spot on the back of his neck. That spot that gets itchy when he's embarrassed.

"We're ok," I say.

"Good, see you at work on Monday," he says. Then he turns and walks away. Yeah, he actually walks away. First time I've ever been the talkative one.


	2. First Comandment

Sam

Isn't my life complicated enough? I mean I'm on a mission with a commanding officer that I slept with not more than a few weeks ago. We're on a rescue mission to save my ex-fiancé. Then I find out that my ex-fiancé has been pretending to be a god and is killing people.

I knew that Jonas was a little bit crazy long before I ever dated him. That was part of his allure. I like to fix broken people. I need someone who needs me desperately. But I never for one moment thought he was capable of murder.

Jack pretends to be stupid. I know that most of it is an act, but you never know. Maybe he didn't read the file.

"I want you to take Connor back through the Stargate. Report to General Hammond what's happened here," he says looking at me.

I put on my best stubborn face, "No, sir."

"No, sir?" he asks like he can't even begin to believe it. He's made enough comments like that himself that he really shouldn't be surprised.

"If you're going after Captain Hanson, I should go with you. I can get to him," I say with certainty. I kept him from doing so many crazy things back in Desert Storm. I was the only one he'd ever listen to. Even when he wouldn't take orders from his commanding officer he'd take them from me. Even if he gave me way more orders than he took.

"Look, Captain," he spits out that honorary title as if it was a swear word. He says it like a racist says 'boy' or a chauvinist says 'woman'. "Either we're bringing him back to face a court martial, or not. I think we both know what the 'not' means."

Yeah, I do know. I've already thought of it. "I know him, Colonel." I remind him.

"Yeah, that would be the problem, wouldn't it?" he says pointedly. In a way this is a metaphor for our relationship. Or rather, for the lack of our relationship. He clearly thought that dating someone and working with them were mutually exclusive. Even dangerous.

"I gave back the ring because I know him. I know how he thinks, how he operates."

"How he likes to play God?" The Colonel says it like it is somehow my fault that Jonas went crazy and is hurting people.

"I don't understand how that could happen any more than you do. But if SG-1 is going after him, then I am going with you." I'm a member of this team. He isn't getting rid of me. No matter what. I'm not going to be the one to budge.

"Wait a minute. No. You…you…you can't do that. There are hundreds, probably thousands of them. He's…he's their god. They'll die for him; they'll kill for him in a heartbeat," Connor says interrupting.

"That's not your problem. Now, I need someone to report back to the General, and that is you," he tells Connor. The Colonel has realized I am an immovable force when I want to be.

"No, sir," Connor says.

He let me get away with that comment, but clearly he thinks I've corrupted Conner. He decided now is the time to lay down the law, "No, sir?" He glares at me, because he's holding me responsible, "Does it say "colonel" anywhere on my uniform?"

"I know the planet and the situation. I think it's suicide. But if you're going, I'm going, sir." He says without hesitation.

"But you are not physically able," Teal'c points out. Does he not know that is the worst thing to say to a military man? Hurts the ego pretty bad.

"Frakes was my friend," Conner says.

"This isn't about revenge." This can't be personal. If it's personal, then I have to think about Jonas. I'd rather he stay Captain Hansen right now.

"Maybe not for you," he says giving me a challenging stare.

Let's go. We've got company.

Daniel

"Well, they were probably just instructed to…take Connor; send us a message that Hanson is in control," I say. I don't know why I'm still talking; it is perfectly obvious that Sam is not listening to me.

"Sounds familiar," she says.

"Which part?" So I guess that means I wasn't listening to myself.

"He likes control."

"Well, what did you see in him?" I ask concerned.

She makes a horrible face, "I dunno. I guess I've always had a soft spot for the lunatic fringe. He was…He was charming."

"Well, that's good. Charming is good," I offer. Sam and I probably don't know each other well enough to talk about our love lives. We certainly haven't talked about what happened between her and Jack last week. She's also gotten that I don't want to talk about Sha're. Once we got the whole, 'no I didn't think of my wife as property' conversation out of the way.

"I don't know. I should be more surprised by this than I am, but I'm not. You know, he had this in him Daniel. Too many years of black ops."

"Well, that's typical of our government's evaluation of soldiers. The crazier they are, the more extreme the situation they seem to be put into," I glance back at Jack. He's pretending he isn't listening. I'm pretty sure he is though, and I'm absolutely positive that Sam just admitted that her dream guy would be a lot like Jack.

"I can't imagine him doing this…He wasn't happy when I broke off the engagement, but he seemed like he'd really pulled himself together when we met up at Stargate Command."

"Apparently not."

Sam

Three woman at his feet. His dream. A harem. Of servants. Who would never presume to be his equal.

"Well. It's about time," Jonas says. He looks the same. The same as he did two months ago when I saw him from the briefing room as he went through the Stargate for the first time. The same as he did six months ago when we had THE FIGHT that ended with me chucking a ring at his head. The same as he did one year ago when for one glorious week in February he left me a single rose and an old movie which mirrored that night's date on my doorstep every morning.

"Hello, Jonas."

But I couldn't do it. Couldn't be vice president. Second class citizen. Property.

"And you never thought I'd amount to anything. Quite a leap, isn't it? From Captain to…"

"What's happened to you, Jonas?" and things got into my voice that I didn't want him to know. That I care what happens to him. That I always cared. Even when he tried to hide the pain from me, and I pretended he had.

I was the only one who ever saw him cry. Big tough guy. Whose friend died saving his life.

"Please. Sit down," he says waving to a stone slab he's covered with tapestry.

"These caves were once mines; they permeate the hillside for miles. But these people have been multiplying like rabbits. They don't have the technology to dig themselves more space; they don't have the courage to leave the caves. It's like a third world country in a bottle."

"And you think you're saving them," I spout sarcastically.

"Oh. I know I am. These people, they're human beings. They're like us." Humans, just like us? who thought he was a god, "How can we turn our backs on them? Kidnapped from Earth. Forced into slavery for centuries…"

"We can't change that."

"Yes! We can. We must help."

"Well, how does posing as a god and slowly working these people to death help them?"

"I hate that word," And it's the anger Jonas has dealt with his whole life. The anger he usually learned to deal with. And when he did explode I'd make a joke, and it would make the anger dissipate in a puff of air like mild base mixed with a strong acid. "Stop using it. I am not posing."

"It is a matter of definition. My people need me. They believe in me. And because they believe, they work."

"To death."

"We're building a civilization, Sam. There are going to be sacrifices. It's better than rotting in caves, living and dying in squalor like you've never seen! I'm creating a great people."

"In your image?"

"Yes. It's going to be wondrous. You'll see. You'll see."

"You knew I would come, didn't you?" I ask him.

"How could you not? Healer of the emotionally wounded. I was your one failure. The bird with the broken wing that wouldn't heal." He's right about my thing for the emotionally wounded. It started after my Mom's death. I couldn't help Dad, and I certainly couldn't help Mark. Looking back I know, I was just a kid. But then. I tried to fix myself by fixing them. And that failed, and I tried to fix my best friend, and my first boyfriend, and the chain remains unbroken right up to Jonas. I promised myself I would break the chain now, and I haven't broken that promise yet.

"You seem to be flying well enough on your own."

"I'd hoped that you would understand," he says sounding genuinely disappointed.

He glances away, and my training kicks in. I grab a gun that he carelessly left laying out. It's loaded, I find with relief as I prime it. I level it at him. Jonas never was a very good soldier. Leaving a loaded gun just laying there. How did he ever get his promotions?

"I do understand. You're sick and you need help," I say. I need some kind of a justification for why I am pointing a gun at the man that I…once loved.

"That's your idea of help?" he sneers. He knows what my idea of help is. That's what I gave him for two years. Two years of help, and I still didn't make any progress.

"Yes. You're coming back with me." And getting help from a professional who actually knows what they are doing.

"Well, you're going to have to use it, Sam," he says. I've never been good at playing chicken. I try though. I hold my hand steady and look at him. "Go on." He prompts. He knows me too well. My hand starts to tremble, "It's still loaded. Pull the trigger." My hand is shaking harder as he moves closer. "Do it!" He commands, making me jump. I hold the gun tighter, "'Cause so help me, that is the only way you're going to stop me." I feel tears coming. Crap. I never let him see me cry when we were engaged. Now he has to see me crying now. "What's a few deaths compared to the survival of my people. Killing their savior might irritate them a little, but at least I'd be gone."

"Don't make me do this." I plead.

He's just inches from my face now, and he says, "Go on, pull the trigger. One more fraction of an inch." He takes the gun; I let him take the gun. And I close my eyes in shame, "You had the gun. You appeared to have all the power. Yet I was in control. That is the strength of a god."

Later

"Mere survival for these people will require unquestioning faith. Pure devotion. They must believe in me. If I am to lead them into the desert, to the Promised Land. I'm merely separating the wheat from the chaff." Jonas says, "Besides, I'm supposed to be crazy, right?"

When we were together, I'm pretty sure everyone called him that except for me, "I never said you were crazy."

"But you think it, don't you?" he says with a laugh, "Well, that's all right. I still have faith in you, even if you don't believe in me. Yet. You'll come around."

"I don't think so, Jonas." He grabs my arm, "Come here." He's pulling me around like he always did. I'm letting him. Like I always did. I left, because I didn't want this anymore. I left because I was afraid that I was going to become the sort of person who lived like this. I was afraid it would change me into someone I didn't want to be.

"I sincerely hope that one day, you will agree to be my goddess." No one has offered to make me a goddess before. But I'm not even tempted. First of all, I don't even want to be a goddess. But more importantly being Jonas's goddess would be pretty much the same as being a slave.

"What if I won't do that?" I ask.

"Then we will watch every last cave dweller die in the sun before I kill us both. "He hath not failed one word of His good promises."" He pulls out a Bible. One that he pulled out of the front pocket of his pants each Sunday when we went to chapel. Back when I went to chapel. "I've been carrying this for years. All along, I've been looking for God…" He looks up at the sky, "And here I am."

**Jack**

Hansen stands up on a rock and makes a big pompous speech, "My children. Today is a great day! "The sun hath stood still in the heavens, and hastened not to go down about a whole day. I have the power to help, and to cast down. But fear not, stand still, and see the salvation of the Lord." Today, we will bury the doorway that brings forth demons who threaten to undo us. But first…I will send those evil undoers who have already invaded our world, back to the hell from whence they came. Fear not, for I the lord your god, control the gateway to the underworld.

"You said you wouldn't kill them," Carter pleads. Strong soldier Carter is gone. In her place is someone that is scared. Scared for us.

"I'm not, I'm sending them back to Earth," he says.

"Without sending the signal to open the iris, they'll die," Sam pleads.

"Please, Sam, I'm having a moment here," Jonas says sarcastically. Then he says in a louder voice, "I am the lord your god; there is nothing I cannot do. No one is greater then I. No one is more powerful than I.'"

Daniel jumps in and proves to the people that what they think of as magic is actually technology. But the whole time I'm looking at Sam's face. I want to protect her. She wants to protect me. We shouldn't be feeling this. But I know the Broca virus isn't the only reason for this. I feel way too protective of my whole team. But the Broca virus is part of this. We messed up. And we feel more for each other than we're supposed to.

**Sam**

"Something else on your mind?" The Colonel asks. He knows me better than my father ever did. Better than my brother. Better than any boyfriend I ever had. Better than anyone except my mom. And I've only known him for a couple of months.

"I had the chance to end this, Colonel. He literally asked me to do it," I admit looking away from him. When I started talking it was an answer to a friend. By the end of it, it was a report on my failings to my commanding officer.

"Killing a man is no badge of honor, Captain," he says, and his voice sounds really honest.

"I know," I say. You don't get to be a soldier without knowing that killing is not a good thing.

"Look, I'm no expert on this thing," he says waving around Jonas's Bible, "I generally remember one commandment, and I think it's the first."

""I am the Lord your God and you shall take no other Gods before me?"" I ask. I know my commandments. I learned them in them in CCD that my mother used to take me to. I got a refresher course during all the chapel I used to go to with Jonas. Since we broke up I haven't been back in chapel.

The Colonel makes a face, "Okay, it's not the first one. I'm talking about the "No Killing" one. No matter what the reason, every time you break it, you take one step closer to Hanson."

That was actually incredibly helpful. "Thanks." I say. He hands me the Bible, but barely makes it noticeable that he's doing it. He knows that I need it. That even though things sucked between Hansen and me, that I'm still going to grieve.

He knows me, better than anyone since Mom.


	3. Brief Candle

Note: I forgot to mention my ever amazing beta bruisedreed, who corrects my spelling, punctuation, and grammar errors, and in general makes me look much smarter than I am.

I have a long weekend, and will be leaving town for once! I may or may not have internet where I am going, so you may all have to go into withdraw.

**Sam**

We come across two people behind a Greek column. Teal'c points a staff weapon at them. The woman is obviously in labor. The man is guarding his wife. A memory flashes of Jack guarding me in the locker room when the Airmen came to get us.

"Sorry. We, we…we didn't mean to scare anyone."

"Husband, the child is near. Please…" she begs.

"The midwife is gone, I…I do not know the birthing mysteries. And the village is too far. Please? Help us," her husband says pleading.

All three of the guys look up at me. Right, I'm a woman so clearly I must be qualified to deliver a baby. Sexist bastards.

"What? Well, don't look at me, I don't know what to do." I tell them.

Later

"Push. Push. Push," Daniel prods. Thetys groans. Oh, childbirth so does not sound fun. I am just really glad I don't have to see this giving birth thing. Daniel is doing the actual looking, and catching the baby part. All I know is that if childbirth is actually as horrible as it sounds it is going to be a LONG time until I become a mother.

"You're doing just fine," Daniel sooths.

"Where did you learn how to do this?" I ask him.

"Uh…Uh, on a dig in the Yucatan. Um, after the first one, I made friends with the local midwives and they taught me a lot."

Daniel would make friends with midwives, "How many babies have you delivered?" I ask.

"Uh…two…" Daniel says nervously, "Uh, counting today." Oh, this poor girl needs help. I model the taking of a couple of deep breaths.

The baby comes out, and so help me I see it. Why do woman have children?

Daniel wraps the baby up in a piece of cloth, and goes out to announce his presence to the father. Alekos grabs Daniel by the shoulder, and hugs him as hard as he can. Then they run behind the pillar to greet his wife and baby. Right, that's why.

"Hey, congratulations," The Colonel says.

"May he grow strong and bring…you…honor." Teal'c offers.

Alekos helps his wife stand up as they continue to goggle over the baby. They begin walking toward the rest of our group.

"Wait, I don't think you should be walking right now, I mean…" I offer. I'm hoping that the boys are going to break in and help me any moment now. "Shouldn't you be resting? Daniel, shouldn't she…"

Thetys laughs, "I'm fine. I'm fine. We wish for you all to be the first to see…Daniel."

**Jack**

"I have a son!" Alekos proclaims proudly. He kisses the baby, and puts him in his wife's arms. I remember that. Best day of my whole life. Charlie's tiny face looking up at me, or past me, because he didn't actually make eye contact that young. But it didn't matter. It was love.

My heart clenches up so tight that I can't breathe for a second. People are gathered around the little family making kind comments.

"Look at these people. I guess they've never heard the word unattractive here," Daniel says. He's really not helping his reputation as the dog of SG-1. But I can't disagree with him. Particularly the one in the corner.

"They all look as healthy as a Jaffa," Teal'c offers.

"That's a good thing, right?" I ask, although I would never want to be compared to a Jaffa.

"I don't see anyone who looks like they're over forty," Sam says. Ok, what does that mean? Fountain of youth or ritual murder or something in between?

A woman looks at the young man who is holding Thetys. Her eyes meet mine. She grins at me.

"Um. Do things feel a little…off…here?"I ask nervously.

"Are you crazy? It's a paradise," Daniel says defensively.

"Yeah, sure, have an apple. What could happen?" I say. I feel like I have to prove to Sam that I do know some of my Bible. Sort of embarrassed myself by not knowing the order of the Ten Commandments a few missions back.

I may be talking to my second-in-command, but my eyes are on mystery woman. Who walks over and offers me a plate covered like you see in a cartoon.

"I am Kynthia. Welcome to our village."

"Thank you. Jack O'Neill," I say at no-longer-a-mystery girl. She takes the lid off, and offers some kind of food to me. It is as flat as a pizza, but it looks more like a sweat bead or a cake with white and purple flowers on top. I love cake. I take a piece of it, and take a bite. She watches me eat it, and breaks into a huge grin as soon as it enters my mouth. Daniel is giving me a weird look.

"It is pleasing?" she asks nervously.

I give her a head nod and smile, "Very." She breaks into a wide grin. I turn to Daniel, "You should have some."

Daniel reaches over, but Kynthia pulls the plate out of his way without even looking at Daniel (weird a girl NOT looking at Daniel). "It is only for you."

Carter laughs, awkwardly.

"Only for me?" I say taking the dish, "Thanks." She walks over to a gaggle of women who giggle.

""It is only for you."" Daniel teases with a smirk.

Carter grins at me, "I think you have a fan, Colonel."

"I believe this woman wishes to spend time with O'Neill."

Jaffa teasing. To the point, and still effective, "Thank you, Teal'c."

Carter laughs. I give her my best commanding officer glare. Her face goes straight, and she looks like a good soldier in a split second, before she breaks into another wide grin.

Daniel is ranting about some archeological whose it. I'm watching the gaggle of women, and my vision goes funky like I've had one too many beers. I've finished off the cake, and I see a reflection in the dish it came in. Funky.

"Perhaps it was a good Goa'uld," Teal'c says.

I laugh so hard that cake spills out of my mouth. "Right! Like there is such a thing."

Teal'c raises his eyebrow at me. "I did not intend for my statements to be humorous."

"Trust me, they weren't." The gaggle of girls pull me to my feet.

"Hello girls…" I say with a grin. I make a mental note not to go back through the gate for awhile. Whatever is in this food or drink has made me higher than a kite. Best if the General not know I got high on an alien planet.

"Uh, Colonel? Where're you going? Hello?" Carter says standing up, alarmed.

They sit me down on a bench, and all the girls disappear. Music starts and Kynthia comes out wearing some see through outfit with butterfly arms. She waves the arms around while her hips do something that hypnotizes me. It's causing some reaction with whatever chemical is in my brain.

I miss Sarah. But Sarah isn't coming back. And it's been a year and four months. Lot of cold showers.

Kynthia stands near me. Clear thought leaves my brain. My eyes are on her. Twirling, spinning, arms and clear fabric swirling all around me. The music speeds up. My blood speeds up. Kynthia speeds up.

We're alone. The rest of the world…but this was never the world. This was someone else's world.

She takes me into her wings. Kissing my lips. I am hers. She is mine. She stands, and I follow her into a building.

**Sam**

You shouldn't care Samantha. He's your commanding officer, nothing more. You said you were ok with that. You're not allowed to care.

I repeat that to myself a couple of times while Jack grins over his lap dance.

"Are you ok?" Daniel asks with concern.

"I'm fine," I reply. But I'm really not. Not only emotionally, but also physically. I don't know if it is the food on this planet or seeing Ja…The Colonel with another woman, but for some reason I've been nauseous since the party started.

"Are you well, Captain Carter?" Teal'c asks concerned.

"I'm fine Teal'c, I think something on this planet doesn't agree with me," I mutter.

"Do we need to go back to Earth?" Daniel asks.

"I'm fine guys, seriously."

**Jack**

This stuff wears off even quicker than it comes on.

"What, exactly, just happened?" I ask. Kynthia smiles at me with her arms around my waist. People come into the building. I sit up in shock pulling the blankets around me. I'm naked. In a public building. I just had sex in a public building, and I'm really hoping no one was in here then. The memory of that is a little foggy and drug induced.

The building is completely silent except for the clinking of my dog tags.

Second time since my divorce that I've slept with a woman I hardly know under the influence of goodness knows what. I'm glad I didn't join the Stargate program when I was still married to Sarah.

But it still feels like betrayal.

I turn back to Kynthia. She's asleep.

"Kynthia?" I whisper. I want to wake her without waking anyone else. "Kynthia?" I ask a bit more desperately. She still doesn't respond. I feel for a pulse, but I don't have the patience for the neck. I put my head down on her chest, and hear a heartbeat. I pull one of the blankets off the bed, and wrap it around myself. My training has definitely kicked in, although this situation isn't exactly something that was covered in my training. Finding yourself drugged in an alien woman's bed. Maybe we should add a course in basic training.

People are sleeping everywhere. On beds, and on the floor.

I'm looking around when my team walks into the building.

"Um…what happened?" I ask confused and concerned.

"To them or…you?" Sam asks.

Talk about betrayal. I think looking at Sam. But her eyes are less accusatory than I thought they would be. We said we'd leave it in the room, but still. If I was in my right mind I would have at least spared her. But if I was in my right mind I wouldn't have betrayed Sam. Or Sarah.

"We'll talk about that later," I say avoiding her eyes. But I know we won't. She doesn't like that whole talking thing much more than I do.

"I've seen parties end abruptly, but never like this," Sam says feeling the pulse on the woman who gave birth today.

"They all just…collapsed," Daniel says.

"It happened just as the sun set," Teal'c says.

"Kynthia did the same thing. What is it? Some kind of sleeping sickness? What?" I ask.

"No sign of fever or pain. Breathing's shallow, heartbeats slow but regular. A disease can't affect everyone all at once," Carter informs me.

"It seems to be nothing more than a deep state of sleep," Teal'c adds.

"Now…how about you?" Carter says trying not to make her voice sound painful, but I know her well enough to know there is a wound behind it. I really wish I had more clothes on.

"Let's just stick to the matter at hand. How does an entire village pass out? Something in the food?" I ask. Carter doesn't quite look right.

"You ok?" I ask her.

"Fine," she says in a voice that clearly indicates that I should drop it.

"We all partook of the same food," Teal'c says.

"Except for that cake," she says not looking at me.

"Which was "only for you,"" Daniel says.

I look down at the glass that I was drinking out of. Probably not the best plan I've ever had. I toss it aside, "Damn. She drugged me." I stand up, trying to leave. "Whoa!" I say as I feel myself falling down.

"Oh…he's still feeling the effects of the drug." Daniel says.

"No…just a little tired." I protest. I'm definitely not still feeling the effects of the drug. I remember quite well what that drug felt like, thank you very much.

"Colonel…?" Carter asks worriedly.

"From now on, we stick to rations."

**Sam**

Last night the Colonel passed out just like every other person in the village. One by one the people have been waking up, but so far the Colonel has not been among them.

"Hey, Colonel…how you feeling?" I say, and I realize a bit too late that my voice is too cheerful.

"Hung over—but okay." He murmurs taking off his sunglasses, and dunking his head completely under the water of the fountain "Getting any answers out here?"

"No. They all act as if what happened last night was normal. They party until sundown, then they fall asleep, and they wake when the sun rises," Daniel says calmly.

"I'd like an explanation. Daniel, get back to that temple. See what you can find out, and take Teal'c with you."

Daniel and Teal'c leave, "Carter. Keep asking questions out here," he commands me.

**Jack**

"Colonel?" Sam says mystified and concerned. "This is baby Daniel."

I look at the child she indicates. I see the birthmark that seems to support her claim. But kids don't grow that quickly.

"Okay…that's not possible," I point out.

"Do you not have children who change and…and grow?" Thetys asks confused.

"Well, yeah, sure we do. But not like that," I tell her. Thank goodness. Charlie grew altogether too fast as it was. I can't imagine if he grew a whole year every day. He would have grown-up, lived his whole life, died of old age. But he would have done it long before the way he died in real life.

I need to stop thinking about Charlie.

"Thetys, how old is that boy?" Carter asks pointing to someone who is either a teenager or close to it.

"That is Phillippos. He is twelve." Thetys informs us.

"Okay, well, he's a little big for twelve years old, but…" Sam points out.

"Years…what are years?" Thetys asks confused.

"Oh. Uh, well…uh, I-I guess it would be a little different for each planet, but a year is basically the time it takes for the globe to complete one orbit around the sun…" Carter begins ranting.

I give an eye roll which earns me a glare from Carter, "Right…let's just keep this keep this simple, okay? Where we come from, there are 365 days in one year."

"No, no. We…we have no such counting of time on Argos. Phillippos is twelve days old."

"What…? How old are you?" Carter asks concerned.

"Twenty-one days." Thetys says.

"And, um…Kynthia?" I ask fully aware that I probably don't want to know the answer to this question.

"Thirty-one days."

That one is going in the box of thoughts I'm not going to process through for LONG time. Assuming of course I have a long time.

**Sam**

"I think Pelops brought humans here to be lab rats. From what we've been able to translate so far he wanted to know how humans evolve, so he shortened the life span to about 1/250th of normal." Daniel says in a clinical voice with the anger buried just beneath.

"So, instead of having to wait a hundred thousand years to see how human physiology evolves, he could do it in a hundred?" I say trying to keep the scientist part of me front and center. The part of me that cares about The Colonel…as a soldier, as a…whatever else we were to one another can't be involved in this conversation.

"That is correct. Pelops wanted to determine what the human host body would become in the future, and perhaps accelerate the process," Teal'c says. He doesn't have to try to hide his emotions. He always hides his emotions, if he feels them. Sometimes I wonder.

"Well, how did he do it? Was it genetic alteration, or…?"

"We do not know. It is an archaic dialect," Teal'c offers.

Daniel is avoiding looking at me, "Daniel…?" I ask.

"Okay. I didn't want to say this 'til I was absolutely sure but…I think he may have created some kind of virus. And…viruses are often spread through bodily contact," Daniel admits looking me straight in the eyes.

"Some are, and some are airborne," I say quickly, although that just means that the rest of us are in danger of dying as well.

"But I think that this one isn't," Daniel interrupts quickly.

"What has drawn you to this conclusion?" Teal'c asks.

"Because only one of us passed out last night, and that was Jack," Daniel says carefully. The Colonel is going to die, because he slept with Kynthia. I was mad at him, but I would do anything to save him.

**Janet**

"Take a look what I found," I say showing Sam the computer screen. "All right, these are the blood samples you brought back. Now, look at the strange particulate in there." I magnify the picture closer so she can see the strange pyramid shaped objects that are in the blood sample.

"So that's from one of the Argosians?" Carter asks.

I flip the screen so it reveals Colonel O'Neill's sample, "Now…That's from Colonel O'Neill."

"Wow…what is it?" she asks.

What is it? Seriously? My best guess is an alien virus that makes people age, but that's completely based on context, "Something we don't have a word for. Yet."

"Well, how come the Colonel has way more of it than the Argosians?" Sam says, and she looks a little pale and worried.

"Maybe because he started out older than they did, sort of like a…a head start for whatever this thing is," I offer.

"I'd better wake up General Hammond," she says.

"Wait," I say holding her arm, "Are you ok, Sam?"

She nods her head, "I think I just have a little stomach bug or something."

"You want me to check it out?" I ask.

"No, I'm fine," she says. I give her a glare, "If it get worse I promise I'll let you do a work-up."

**Jack**

"Welcome back, Captain. So, what did you find out?" I ask Sam. She is staring at me open mouthed, "Come on now, don't keep the elderly waiting. It's rude."

"It isn't a virus," Carter informs me with a flinch that lets me know she thinks she is delivering bad news.

"All right, what is it?" I ask impatiently.

"Well, Dr. Fraiser and I came up empty. She's still working on it. But it's going to take time," she say apologetically.

"Time…is something these people don't have, Captain," Daniel says bluntly.

"Nor do I," I remind them.

"Colonel, there's something else. Your blood sample showed way more organisms compared to the Argosians," Carter says still not looking at me.

"How many more?" I ask.

Carter squirms, "Maybe on the level of a hundred times more…and they are multiplying."

"Which means?" I ask. I hate scientific babble.

"It…it means the organism, or whatever it is, seems to be compensating for your natural age. You've already lived way longer than anyone with this—for lack of a better word, disease—ever should."

"Cut to it, Captain," I snap.

She doesn't want to tell me. In fact the only reason she is telling me is because I could command her to tell me if she won't on her own, "At the rate you're changing, by the end of two weeks, you'll be the equivalent of one hundred years old."

"So, in two weeks I'll be dead?" I repeat.

She flinches at by bluntness, and gets the look on her face someone gets when they are standing over a wounded comrade and fighting, "Not if I can help it. I'd like to set up a lab here."

Soldiers sometimes have to leave their wounded comrades so they have a chance to live, "Negative, Captain." I say sternly.

"We may be able to retard the aging process long enough to find a cure," Carter says.

"I want you to pack up and head back to Earth. Now. All of you. That's an order. We're not going to bring another disease back through that Gate," I state firmly.

"I will remain here, with O'Neill. I cannot be affected by…whatever this is." Teal'c says with that same stoic 'leave no man behind' face on. Why are they all acting like I'm already dead?

"I don't need company. I need a cure. And Daniel needs help translating that Goa'uld tablet thing. It might hold the answer." I say.

"Jack…" Daniel protests.

My voice is a lot angrier than I mean it to be as I say, "And don't you dare say good-bye, because you damn well better be coming back…soon. Now, get out of here. All of you."

**Sam**

I look carefully at the samples under the microscope. I always liked physics way more than biology, but I got bored with anything under a full load, and there are only so many physics classes offered at the academy, so I know my way around a microscope.

"My God…" as Janet comes over to join me, "They're not multiplying. They're replicating."

"What's the difference?" Daniel asks from a safe distance through a sound system.

"Living organisms multiply. Machines replicate," I clarify.

"Machines inside the body? How is that possible?" Teal'c asks. This comes from the same person who asked how we shrunk people down to fit them inside the box when he saw his first TV. But his current question is one any civilian of earth might ask.

"They're molecular devices that take atomic particles from their environment and use them to make more of themselves," I tell him.

"Well, you're talking nanotechnology!" Janet says excited like I just announced that there would be hover boards on the market by Christmas.

"You know anything about that?" Daniel asks.

"No," Janet admits with a sigh.

I'm pretty sure he was just talking to Janet, but I offer my answer anyway, "Yes! When I was at the Pentagon, I worked for a year with a group that studied nanotechnology. We were looking at it for a lot of different uses; one of them was medicine. Creating artificial immune systems, repairing individual cells…even manipulating DNA to stop the aging process."

"It sounds like Pelops succeeded in what you were experimenting with, only in reverse. Nice guy," Janet says.

**Jack**

I stare at the statue and mutter, "What're you looking at? Think you're hot stuff, doing this to me from six billion light years away?"

Kynthia comes around a corner, "Can you really talk to the great Pelops?"

"Sure…why not? Just a piece of rock. Not so great, anyway." I mutter dismissively.

"Your people…they have gone?"

"Yeah…they've gone."

"Then, you will leave also?"

"No, I'll be here for a while."

Kynthia misses the despair in my voice and sounds delighted as she says, "I am glad." She sits down on one of the pillows around my feet. She puts a hand on my knee. It's a subservient way to sit, and it bothers me, "I would like to learn of your customs," she says.

"Maybe some other time, huh? I've kinda got a lot on my mind."

"But you ate the marriage cake…came to my bed…"

What? I stare at her, "Marriage cake?" No, I'm married to Sarah, ok, so I'm not actually married to Sarah anymore, but in my heart I am, "Kynthia, you thought we were married?"

She looks at me concerned, "By all our customs, yes."

Oh, she's a great kid. But I'm not ready for marriage again. And I don't want to marry someone so young. She's a month old for crying out loud. And while she obviously isn't like a month old in my world, there is still so very little of her world that she has experienced, "Sweet…" I let out a sigh, "Kynthia, wh-what you were feeling wasn't really love. That takes time. I mean, you can't get to know someone in one day."

"Unto every woman the creator gives one hundred blissful days," she quotes.

I lose patience with the kind and gentle way of talking about these things, "Kynthia, will you stop that? Your creator was not a god, and he certainly didn't give you life. He took it away."

"We are the Chosen. He made this place for us. To be happy…to love."

"To be experimented on! I mean, look at me! I'm forty years old…or I was. That's…thousands and thousands of days," I rant.

She looks like I really hurt her, "You do not tell the truth."

"The average human life span is sixty or seventy years. Some people live to be one hundred years," I say punching each and every word.

She starts crying, "It is not possible."

"Pelops was an alien who used your people! He shortened your lives to satisfy his curiosity!"

She looks at the statue, and then me, "No," she whispers. She runs out of the room. I probably shouldn't have done that, but can you blame me? I'm dying; I shouldn't also have to worry about other people's feelings.

**Sam**

"We've given the nanocytes some live tissue to interact with, but they aren't touching it. The only thing they appear to do is make more of themselves. So, how are they causing the aging on Argos?" I ask Janet. I'm getting impatient with the lack of progress; we have to find the Colonel.

"Maybe there's something on Argos that they need to make them do another task, something in the air or, uh, in the food," Janet says.

I set down one of the tools I am holding. I look down at my gloves. They appear to be falling apart before my eyes. An alarm sounds. I pull my hands out and shut the nanites in.

"Is there a problem, Captain Carter?" Teal'c asks over the intercom.

"I-I don't know!" I say as I scrub my hands. I think I got them shut in on time, but I can't be sure.

"It's eating through the rubber!" Janet says.

I glance over my gloves in the isolation chamber that are just a few fragments by now, "Oh, God!"

"What? What is it?"

"They're trying to spread," I inform her. These things are smart, and they are in the Colonel.

**Jack**

** "**Come back to the village. It is not good to be always alone," Kynthia says.

I've been trying to write a note to Sarah. I've been finding it impossible, and it isn't just because of the classified nature of how I'm going to die. It's because I don't know what to say to her. "You decided a year and a half ago that I wasn't good enough, and now I'm dying. You left me when I needed you, but I'm still lame enough to love you. I'm the reason that Charlie has died, and I understand why you couldn't forgive me for that." I turn away from Kynthia, I don't deserve her either, "Whatever time I have left, let me spend it in my own way."

"But you do not spend it. You waste it."

"I don't think reflecting on my life, or…trying to figure out how to get the rest of it back, is a waste."

"You are angry."

"Yes. Yes I am. Aren't you? Now that you know the truth?"

"What can we do but live in the way we always have? We do not have thousands of days. But we treasure every moment," she says softly.

"I know, Kynthia. But in my heart…I'm a military man, a warrior. That's my life," and that was a lot of the problem between Sarah and I, or at least the part of the problem that was around before Charlie died, "To which my ex-wife will attest."

"You love her still?" she asks. She's the first one who has ever asked me that question, and I know the answer to it, but I'm not going to give her the answer, "And now, because of me, you will never see her again," she says.

Guilt. I'm pretty familiar with that emotion. I didn't know she was feeling it for me. There is enough of that in the world. If she is going to die in sixty-some days she shouldn't have to deal with guilt for the little time that is left.

"You meant no harm," I say patting her.

"Then let me give what I have taken. The time of one heartbeat can become eternity." I turn to look at her. She has tears in her eyes. She leans forward, and her lips make contact with mine. I don't return the kiss, but I also don't pull away. I'm not going to have any more relationship with this woman than I have already had. But I'm going to let her kiss me. She thought she was getting married, and she wasn't.

**Sam**

I can't believe what I am hearing. The General says, "All blood and tissue samples are to be incinerated and pulverized. Work on the Argos project stops now."

"General, you are condemning Colonel O'Neill and the Argosians to death," Daniel says with fury that he is just barely able to keep in check.

"Captain Carter, these things appear to possess artificial intelligence. Correct?" General Hammond asks me.

"Yes, sir. That's the only way they could adapt their programming to their situation," I admit hoping this doesn't mean I have a role in killing the Colonel.

"Which means they could adapt themselves right out of this facility."

"Sir, if we destroy the samples we will have nothing to work from."

"I'm sorry. The risk is just too great. The order is final," General Hammond stands up. Out of respect both Janet and I stand up.

Daniel shouts, "Sir!" Hammond stops and turns, "We cannot just leave him there."

Hammond's voice is soft as he says, "Doctor Jackson, Colonel O'Neill is one of the finest men it has ever been my pleasure to serve with. It will be a great loss to this country and to all of us in this room. But I am sure he would not hesitate to make the same decision for himself that I am making now."

After the General has left the room I lose my lunch in the trash bin. I'm sure everyone thinks it is about what just happened, but I know it isn't. In fact I'm starting to get suspicious about just what might be the cause of this "stomach virus."

It's been a month since the Brocca virus.

One of the finest men General Hammond has ever served with. The best commanding officer I've ever had. The father of my child? And we're still going to leave him on that planet.

**Jack**

Kynthia and I start to walk on the beach, but suddenly she freezes, "What is it?" I ask.

"We should go back. We have gone too far from the village. Pelops forbids it," she says fearfully. They may have pulled down the statue in an act of rebellion today, but they are pretty far from being free of him.

"He's gone, Kynthia. He's gone. It'll be okay. Promise."

"Tell me, will you live the rest of your days without making love?"

"Oh, God, I hope not," I say. But not now, and not with Kynthia. It's after dark, "Why aren't we unconscious yet? It should have happened already, Kynthia. Why aren't we asleep?"

**Sam**

Here I am standing in a gas station bathroom that can only be described using the word filthy and all its synonyms staring at a positive pregnancy test. I've been in here for half an hour now staring at it. My lunch break is almost over, and I really need to be getting back to the base. Usually I just work through my lunch break. It's part of the problem of having two jobs. My lab work, and my going through the gate.

But all of that is going to change. I'm not going to be going through the gate for awhile, and if I ever do go back it is going to be with a different team. No more front line explorer stuff.

And I'll have to get home at a decent time, because someone is going to be there when I get home. God, I'm responsible for a baby.

My heart is racing, and as hard as I try I can't get anything but shallow breaths into my lungs. I've heard the term, "panic attack" before, but never knew what it referred to until exactly this second.

Maybe I will get back on SG-1 if the Colonel dies. Then I curse myself for that selfish thought. I mean the father of my baby is in danger, and all I can think about is myself? And how involved is the Colonel going to be? God, how will I tell him? I can't even call him by his first name, how am I going to tell him that he's the father of a kid?

Maybe I shouldn't even have the kid.

But as soon as that thought enters my brain I get incredibly nauseous, and this time I know it's not morning sickness. I know not having this baby isn't an option.

Ok, well, I can't decide everything today. I'm just going to go back to work. I've got eight months to figure this out. Eight months isn't nearly long enough. But if I start in four hours instead of right now I'm not going to be that far behind.

**Jack**

Last night Kynthia and I didn't pass out when night fell. We went to sleep normally sometime after that. The next morning we headed into the village. The sun has been up for an hour or so, but everyone is still asleep. Sprawled all over beds and the floor and wherever just like they were before.

"No one has awakened," Kynthia points out.

"Except for us. Why? How important is this rule that no one leave the village?" I ask.

"It is Pelops' first law."

"Then whatever it is that knocks us all out at night is right here."

"What?"

"I'll bet you and I stayed awake because we walked out of range. The cure could be as simple as gettin' the hell out of Dodge. We stay out of proximity; no sleep. They all stay here; they get no wake-up call," then I give it a bit more thought, "There's got to be some other variable, some other change."

We walk into the temple. I look at the place where they toppled over the statue. There is some kind of an electrical device hidden inside of it.

**Sam**

"General, could I speak with you for a second?" I ask.

He turns to me with a bright smile. I remember that smile from when I was a kid. Back when he and my father were both Majors. When I called him George, and played with his daughter, "Of course," he gestures me to a chair.

I sit down, "I'd like to request reassignment."

He looks like I've slapped him in the face. Of course, he would take me personally. I didn't mean to hurt George. I would do just about anything in the world to avoid hurting George.

"May I ask why?" he asks.

"I just…want to go back to working more in an advisory scientific role." I hope he is going to buy this. Most of the reason I am asking for this is because it is what is best for the baby. I lost my mom when I was fourteen, and my dad was all over the world the whole time I was growing up. He got settled down in Washington just about the time I left for college. My kid needs stability. A mom who is going to come home every night. One who isn't occasionally going to spend the night on another planet. Especially, because my kid is only going to have a mom.

That's the other decision I've made. I'm not going to tell the Colonel. Even if he lives. This baby is the prime example of an accident. It wouldn't exist if it weren't for an alien virus making the Colonel and I lose our minds. I won't let it ruin his life. I mean, my career is pretty much preeminently changed, and my private life will never be the same, but he can walk out of here unchanged. He deserves that, I'm going to let him have it.

I'm already adjusting to the idea of having a baby, even though I am freaking out, because I have no idea what I'm doing. The only thing that hurts is that I'm leaving the Stargate behind, and that really hurts.

"So you want to go back, and watch the Stargate program from DC, Captain Carter?" General Hammond asks.

I nod my head.

"Your superiors said you wanted to go through the gate more than anything else in the world."

"I got to go through it," I say with a shrug of my shoulders.

"Sammy?" he says catching my eyes and looking at me with a confused hurt expression.

"Sir, I have personal reasons."

"Is Jacob ok?" he asks concerned.

"Yeah, Dad's fine," I say. The sudden thought of telling my dad about the baby gives me a moment of terror.

"What's wrong, Sammy?" he asks again. He's using the name for me that only my father has used before, and it gives me a pang of guilt. I hadn't intended on telling anyone at the SGC. But George was a family friend long before he was my commanding officer.

"I'm having a baby, Sir," I whisper.

He looks at me with shock, and a slight smile on his face, "Sammy, we've got a science job here for you until the baby comes, and you could come back to your place on SG-1 when you were ready."

"Thank you sir," I say hanging my head, knowing SG-1 was not the place for me anymore, "But I think I need to relocate before the baby comes, and I feel like I need a safer job, since I'm a single parent."

"Not trying to run away from a loser father are you?" he asks.

I shake my head. Jack isn't a loser.

He sits back and examines me for a long time. "I'll put you on light duty and give you a week to rethink it before I approve your transfer."

"Thanks," I say.

I'm almost out of the door before he says, "Captain Carter." I turn to look at him. A wide smile is across his face, "Congratulations."

And someone is happy about this kid. That's good. We're going to need some of that.

**Jack**

"Welcome back, kids. It's damn good to see you again," I say. They are all staring at me in shock. Reminding me, just in case I forgot (I didn't) that I look REALLY old right now, "Don't worry. Aside from a little prostate problem we won't go into, it's not so bad." I look around. No Carter. "Where is Captain Carter?"

"She's switched jobs," Daniel says.

"What?" I'm on another planet for a week and a half and my second-in-command gets another job? "What job did she switch too?"

"Ah…scientific coordinator," Daniel says shooting me a look of concern.

"Right," I mutter. I'll yell at Sam when I get home. "So who's going to fix this thing.

"Major gave me instructions so that I could accomplish that task," Teal'c says.

"Uh, there were two sets of glyphs that were quite tough to translate until Teal'c realized they weren't words," Daniel offers.

"They were, in fact, numbers," Teal'c says.

"Sam realized they were two different frequencies. One to put the villagers to sleep and to activate the nanocytes, the second one to shut it all off for the day. When you broke the statue, you must have damaged the wake-up call.

"Can you recalibrate this thing to wake these people up?" I ask.

"Ah..no," Daniel says, "Sam figured it was broken. She gave us equipment with the frequency loaded on it."

Teal'c flips it on and the people all over the village start to wake up.


	4. Baby Talk

**Sam**

"Well Colonel, it looks like you're getting a clean bill of health. All the nanites have left your system." Janet says.

"I figure the immune system must attack them if they aren't operating," I explain.

"The people of Argos should age at a normal rate from here on," Daniel says.

"What about O'Neill?" Teal'c asks.

"Me? Oh, I'll probably move to Florida, get into a little retirement home of some kind," Jack says.

"You'd look pretty out of place there at your age," I say with a smile. I haven't been able to stop smiling since I found out that the Colonel is going to live.

"Why? I look like my grandfather," the Colonel says. That makes me wonder about his family. Does he have grandparents? Parents? Do I have a right to deprive my kid of a whole half of its family?

"'Look' is the operative word here. If our hypothesis is right, the nanites in your system were only meant to imitate aging. They weren't meant to start the process in a full-grown adult." I tell him. I love actually getting to break good news for once in my life.

"What are you saying to me?" he asks.

"Well, without these little buggers in your system to maintain the changes, you should return to normal within a week or two."

"I was kinda looking forward to a little shuffleboard with the fellas."

I grin.

The rest of team slowly leaves.

"Carter," he says. And it isn't the same old stoic Jack O'Neill I've gotten used to serving under.

"I heard you were leaving my team," he says. I should have known he'd take it personally. I sort of hoped that my letting him hear about it second hand casually that he wouldn't put two and two together. But I should have known that that would hurt him. I should have let him hear it straight from me.

"I'm actually leaving the base. I'll be going back to Washington," I tell him not looking at him.

"I gave you a great performance recommendation. You deserved it. I'm not the one who took your dream away from you." He doesn't know it, but in a way he was.

"I requested transfer," I say.

He is silent for so long that I am forced to turn to him, to look at him. He is studying me carefully. "You wanted this place. For two years, all you could think about was getting here. Then they shut you out, unfairly, right when you were in a pretty sensitive place in your life. You waited another year, and you got here. You telling me that after four months you're done?"

"I got to go through the Stargate," I say trying to keep my voice sounding like a soldier's and not all weepy, "That's all I really wanted."

"Bull shit, Carter, you've wanted NASA your whole life. You've been working toward that goal since before you knew how to talk. You settled for this place. So, unless you are telling me that you are leaving here to go work for NASA I won't believe you are leaving by choice."

"I didn't settle for this place," I blurt.

He smiles at me, and I know the previous speech was designed to get me to confess that very detail.

"It's your dream, so why are you leaving, Captain?"

I don't answer right away. He looks at me, "Is it because of," he clears his throat, "Carter, is it that hard to work with me?"

He thinks it's because of the Broca virus, and it is, but not the way he thinks.

"Colonel, I'm not leaving because of you. I'm leaving for personal reasons."

"You're going back to D.C.?" he asks.

I nod.

"Dad ok?" he asks. It's a little ironic that he's calling my dad, Dad.

"Yeah."

"Someone out there? After Jonas?" he asks. But he seems confused by this. He knows I'm not the sort of girl to compromise my career to move next to a boyfriend. Although, unknown to anyone, including myself until a few days ago I am the sort of girl to give up a career for a kid. I wouldn't have figured myself the type.

"No," I tell him again. A grimace covers my face. I'm suddenly remembering the altogether too personal look at childbirth I got a couple of weeks ago. And in eight short months, that will be me. Thank goodness for modern pain medicine. Maybe I can talk Janet into a general anesthetic.

"Sorry, to bring that up," he says much abashed.

"No, that flinch wasn't about Jonas," I say.

"Ok, so why are you leaving?" he asks again. He isn't going to let this go. I might as well get the telling out of the way.

"I'm having a kid," I say.

His face flashes with jealousy which he covers in a second with his usual emotionless mask. "Congratulations," he says, but he nearly chokes on those words.

"So, I'm just going to a job that will be a little safer, as a single mom."

His eyes light up at the end of that, but he tries to hide it. "We've got a lot of science positions right here at the SGC. And if you didn't move across the country maybe you wouldn't have to be a single mom."

My eyes search his face trying to figure out what he meant by the last words.

"I mean the man would have to be stupid not to man up and take care of his kid," Jack says.

"Yes, sir," I say disappointed.

He looks at me, "You just found out you're pregnant?" he asks.

I nod, feeling nausea creep into my stomach once again.

"It's mine," he says. I don't answer him, and he doesn't need me to. He just locks eyes with me for a long moment, "You were going to leave without telling me you were carrying my kid?" and he sounds so wounded.

I sit down, "I'm sorry, sir. I was trying to protect you."

"Protect me?" he says, "So Daniel told you?"

"What?" I ask.

"God, never mind. What exactly were you trying to protect me from Carter?" he asks looking mad at himself.

"I just meant your career."

"My career has been over twice. I wouldn't mind if it was over again. But it's not even to that point. Frat regs apply between officers and enlisted. What we did wasn't against the rules."

"But it is frowned upon."

"Of course, but not jail going or career ending. Besides, we were under the influence of alien technology."

"Right, but I figured if I left,no one would have to know. It wouldn't hurt anyone's career."

His eyes look suspiciously wet as he looks away, "Cut the crap Carter. Just say it. 'I didn't want anyone to know I slept with my commanding officer, so I'm leaving to save my career.' I'm a big boy. I can take it." I'm almost out of the room before I hear his soft voice, "Carter? If I came up to D.C. would you let me see it?"

There is something broken about him. "Of course, Sir," I say. But I already know. I can't leave. I can't take that baby away from Jack who needs it, for some reason, desperately. I can't take Jack away from the baby, who is going to need a father. And I can't just run away.

Anyway, Jack was wrong. I was leaving to protect his career. My career would be better off if I stayed.

**George**

I know it's Sammy's knock before I even look up. "Come in," I say looking up from my paperwork. "Sit down," I say.

She doesn't bother to close the door, which I think is pretty odd considering what she is no doubt planning on talking about. "Have you put in my transfer papers?"

"No, still hoping you'd reconsider," I tell her.

She bites her lip, "I have."

"You'd like to stay," I say.

"Yes, Sir," she nods. Then she looks down, "I need to inform you of something. You might want to take disciplinary action."

I can't imagine wanting to take disciplinary action against Captain Carter. She's kept her nose clean. Not a mark on her record. Nothing but perfect scores, "What is it Captain?" I ask.

"During the Broca Virus incident several people on your base left things out of their reports, including myself."

Oh, this is about her and the Colonel, "I know about what happened in the locker room, Captain," I say cutting her off.

She blushes, "Colonel O'Neill is the father," she stammers.

I get up and shut the door. Walter is pretending he didn't hear that, but I know he did. Walter is discrete though, and just a little bit in love with Sammy. So there isn't a whole lot of chance he's going to go blab this all over the base. If Walter is the only one that heard then her secret is safe.

"If I'm staying, General, everyone is going to know."

"You told Jack, he's going to be involved?" I ask.

"Mostly so far he's just told me he is furious and hurt for my trying to leave without telling him," I say.

I nod. And I realize. She doesn't know. She doesn't have access to Jack's files. Doesn't know about his son. It's going to affect everything about their relationship, and she doesn't even know. And as General I don't have the right to tell her. As Uncle George I do. But Uncle George wouldn't have access to the information about Jack. The dangers of wearing two hats.

"Sam, be patient with Jack," I say.

She closes her eyes and nods, before those brilliant, bright eyes open up again "It's a lot to take in. Believe me, I know," she says.

"Why don't you take a couple of days off to think about all of this," I offer.

She shakes her head, "You wouldn't do that for anyone else, Sir. I'll be all right."

"Sam, if you need someone to talk to…" I begin.

She looks at me, "George," she says, and I'm a little taken aback by that. She hasn't called me 'George' since she was twelve and her dad made Colonel and moved to another base, "I really need to be Captain Carter right now. At least on base. I appreciate you trying to help me, to be my friend. But I need normalcy at work more than I need a friend right now."

"I understand, Captain," I say.

"And you don't need to be discrete," she says smiling, "This is going to be big news about the base. I'd rather get that out of the way now."

But I know I'm not going to tell anyone. The secret might keep for a month or so more and they could use that time to adjust to an idea of a baby.

She turns at the door, "But don't tell Dad." And her face looks really worried. It's worried because she never understood Jacob. Just like Jacob never understood her.

**Daniel**

I poke my head into Jack's private room in the infirmary with caution, "Janet says she released you a few hours ago."

"I'll get out of her hair," he grumbles, "She could have just told me instead of asking for reinforcements."

"It wasn't that, but Jack, she was concerned about you," I say.

"Nothing to worry about."

"Jack" I say stopping him from getting up, "I saw you in Abydos."

"Did you tell Sam?" he asks.

I must have look as confused as I felt, because he clarifies.

"Did you tell Sam about Charlie, and Sarah, and the way I was at Abydos?" he asks.

"Of course not," I say slightly offended. I'm not a gossip.

"I just thought…she might know," and he looks strangely disappointed.

I just do that silence. I'm not silent very often, so when I am it forces Jack to get nervous, and talk.

"If she knew about Charlie…I thought that was the reason she didn't want me around the kid. Otherwise…it's just me."

"What?" I ask. I couldn't have heard him right, could I have?

"Broca," he says waving his hands, "and now Sam's pregnant."

"What?" I repeat.

"And she's leaving. Going back to D.C."

"Sam's leaving the SGC?" I ask.

"Apparently, she doesn't want me near the kid."

"I don't think that's what this is about. Does she have some family there or something?"

He nods, barely perceptibly, "Her dad lives there. But they don't seem that close. Her dad's a General in the Air Force," he says hiding his head in his hands.

I don't know quite what to say to that. It seems like Jack and Sam's dad might get along quite well.

"I knocked up a General's daughter," he explains. Oh, well that sounds painful.

"Jack, explain to me why Sam is leaving," I prompt.

"I don't know! She wasn't even going to tell me!" And he's bawling now. I'm not quite sure what to do with that. Jack doesn't really strike me as the hugs men kind of guy. Come to think of it, I'm not really the hugs other men kind of guy.

I pat his shoulder. Which ends up being more awkward than helpful. "Jack have you told her you don't want her to go?"

He looks at me in silence.

"She needs to know that. She's probably scared, and confused, and feeling really alone. And you need to tell her about Charlie. She needs to know why you have strong reactions to things. I know you don't want to tell her, but you really do have to."

"Thanks, Daniel," he says. And I know that's my cue to leave the room. Janet gives me quite the glare when I walk out without the Colonel in tow.

"Just give him a minute, he's coming," I assure her.

**Sam**

It's overkill I know. Ten books on pregnancy and childbirth. But I know nothing. Nothing except that I'm going to get fat and be in a lot of pain. I also got twelve books on parenting, because I'm a whole lot more clueless when it comes to that.

I pull up in front of my house, and the Colonel is sitting on my front step. I'm hoping he wasn't there long, because I was in the bookstore for a long time.

When he sees me pop my trunk open he runs down the steps to my car.

"Lots of reading material," he comments.

"Thought I'd better study up on the subject matter, Sir," I say.

"Let's leave off the Sir's," he says.

I nod my head, "I won't be coming back to your team."

"I'm sorry," he says softly, "I know it must be killing you." Then he makes a face which seems to say, 'of course,' "but after the baby comes I can ask to be reassigned to SG-2, and you can go back to SG-1."

"I can't ask you to do that," I tell him.

"You're not asking," he says.

"This whole thing is my fault."

He shakes his head, "I don't want to talk about blame. This kid…isn't something to blame one another for."

"You're right," I say, and a little smile plays on his lips.

He takes the two bigger bags of books, and I pick up the smaller one. I open the door to my house, and he comes inside.

"Carter, I want you to stay," he blurts out.

"I'm going to stay," I tell him, and he looks so relieved. "I was trying to protect you by leaving you, but I only ended up hurting you."

"You should probably sit down for this next part," he says. I sit down in a chair, but I notice that he doesn't. He paces back in forth. "Charlie died."

"Kowalski? Yeah, I was there."

"No…my son Charlie died," he says softly.

"Oh God Jack," I say standing up. My initial instinct was to hug him. But his body language is saying he wants space.

"He was nine. Right before Abydos, he…" Jack says something in a voice so quiet I can't even hear it.

"What happened?" I ask.

"He accidently shot himself, with my gun."

I don't give a shit about his body language right now. I give him a hug. He doesn't resist, but he doesn't hug back either.

"I'll understand if…I mean now that you know…I'll leave you alone if you tell me to."

"What?" I ask pulling back, so I can look at him, "You have to be kidding. Jack, if you want to be involved I want you to be. I thought before…that you didn't want this, and then I mean…you didn't have to. But it was never because I didn't think you could do it, or that you would be great at it."

"My son is dead because of me."

"No, it was an accident, Jack."

"Our kid needs to be safe," he says.

"And you are uniquely qualified to keep him that way," I say taking his hand and placing it on my belly.

His eyes grow wide, "I'm a dad again," he says slowly.

"You are," I say smiling.

"And you're going to let me be a dad even though you know about Charlie?" he asks uncertainly.

"Yes," I assure him, and he's crying. I get him to sit down on the couch, and hold him.

"I'm sorry Sam; I don't know what's wrong with me."

"It's a hormone thing, has to do with pregnancy," I tease him. "Jack, crying when you are talking about your dead son, it's ok."

"Sam, I have to be honest. I'm not ok. I'm…" he looks away again, "Sam after Charlie died I was really depressed. Abydos…" he can't go on. I put an arm around him, "Abydos was a suicide mission Sam. I wanted to die. My wife left me. She left me by the time I came back from Abydos. I needed her. But to be fair, she needed me too, and I sure as hell wasn't there for her. But she had her Dad, and I had no one."

I take his hand, "Do you still want to die?"

"No," he says shaking his head, "I haven't wanted to die since I came back from Abydos. But Sam, I'm still not always ok."

"Are you still married Jack?" I ask not looking at him.

"No, it's been official for over a year."

"I have no idea how to be a parent," I confess. I'd never tell him that if he wasn't so vulnerable.

He giggles, "Hence the sixty pounds of pregnancy books."

I smile, "We've got eight months right? Eight months to figure all this out."

"It's not long enough," he says.

"We'll make it long enough," I say.

"It's cute that you think you can do that," he says.

He stays for another two hours including dinner. We don't talk the whole time, but that's ok. It's a comfortable silence.

"I'll see you tomorrow then, Sam," he says.

"I have an appointment with Janet in the morning. She doesn't know it's about the baby. I mean…she doesn't know there is a baby. But I know she has an ultrasound machine, and look, I don't know if you are the kind of guy who does doctor appointments…."

"I definitely am, Sam," he says with a smile.

"Ok I'll see you in the infirmary at eleven."

**Janet**

Sam is coming in for a check-up for the stomach flu, so I'm pretty surprised when the Colonel comes with her.

"Sir, I'm sure she is fine, I'll send you a report if it is anything that affects her ability on your team," I tell him.

"Actually she isn't on my team anymore," he says.

"And I really want him to stay," she adds.

"And it isn't about the stomach flu," Jack adds.

"Why don't we do this examination in an isolation room," I offer.

"That would be great," Jack says looking relieved.

"They're all going to know sooner or later," Sam protests.

"And I'll take later."

"Why don't you want people to know?" she pouts.

"I think we could both use a little time to adjust," she tries to interrupt him, but he stops her, "ah ah, I know you're superwoman, but I think if we can avoid the stares for another week or two we'll be better off."

We're in the isolation room now. I make sure the door is shut before I say, "Please, explain, what the hell you two are talking about?" I'm pretty sure I already know, but I want to hear them say it.

"We're pregnant," Jack says.

"Pretty sure I'm the one that's actually pregnant," Sam says.

I stare at them open mouthed.

"Broca," Jack says to me. Then he turns to Sam, "I was thinking that would make a great bump name."

"Bump name?" she asks with raised eyebrows which clearly indicate their kid is in no danger of growing up with the name 'Broca'.

"Yeah, it's what we call the baby while it's still a bump," he stammers, "not that the baby is a bump yet, but it will be. Anyway the point is when the baby is born we'll get it a real name."

"We'll discuss the 'Bump name' thing later," Sam says.

"You're pregnant," I repeat.

"Yep, run your tests, and tells us that Broca is fine," Jack says.

"Jack!" Sam protests.

"Just until you pick its real bump name," he says with a grin.

"Ok, hop up on the table, Sam," I say.

"You have an ultrasound machine right?" Jack asks.

I nod. "I'll draw some blood, before I go get it." I take a deep breath as I draw the blood out of her vein. Without pain, just like I learned as a resident. "I'll have to tell the General."

"Already did, and he put me on light duty," she says.

"Making my job easy," I say with a relieved sigh.

I go to get the ultrasound machine. By the time I come back they are engaged in a lively debate over 'bump names.'

"Ready to hear Bump's heartbeat?" Jack asks.

"We're so not calling this kid Bump," Sam protests.

"I don't want to call it, it."

"Baby," Sam says firmly.

"This isn't how six week ultrasounds are normally done, but it will work," I say rolling the machine up. Jack is standing behind Sam looking scared, but she has no clue, because he's applying firm even pressure to the hand she's holding.

Sam pulls up her shirt, and I squirt the jelly onto it. I flip the switch and the baby appears on the screen. Jack breathes a sigh of relief, and Sam looks at him in alarm.

"Hey, the kid is ok," she says.

"I know."

"Is this about Charlie?" she asks. Thank God Sam knows about Charlie.

"Sam, you don't know how many things can go wrong this early. Just wait until you've read all those books you got," he says. Now Sam is the one that is freaking out, "We've seen the baby…we're part way to safe."

"He's right," I say, "A good ultrasound means that we can rule out A LOT of problems."

"I hadn't considered losing the baby," Sam says.

"Hey, Sam, we're not going to," Jack says moving so he can look at her eyes.

"Have you been having any symptoms?" I ask.

"Nausea. Pretty much everything but crackers makes my stomach turn," she admits.

"Are you eating well Sam? Because your workaholic diet isn't going to cut it anymore. And you need to sleep," Jack says worriedly.

Sam gives me the answer to Jack's question ignoring him, "I can eat healthy food after I finish the crackers. I've been sleeping hours more per night than ever before in my life."

"Good, Sam," I tell her.

**Jack**

I can't believe I am nervous about asking Sam out on a date. She's having my baby for crying out loud! I guess the reason I'm nervous about it is because I'm scared about all the things we need to say. We've talked of course. I said I wanted to be involved, and she said she was going to let me be involved. But we didn't talk about what that is going to mean.

Are we just going to be friends who raise a kid together or are we dating now? Does she want to live together? If so where are we going to live? Does she want to get married? Because I really don't think I can get married right now.

I mean obviously I could get married. My divorce has been legal for a year and three months. But I really don't think I can emotionally do that yet. I'm afraid if Sam and I got married it would all blow up in my face, and I'm not even sure there is something to blow up yet.

I'm not even sure I can do the live together thing, either platonically or as a couple. I mean, I still have trouble getting out of bed in the morning. Since I found out about the baby, I've been trying to cut myself down on the self-medication alcohol. But it's still way more than I would like to admit to anyone, especially someone I liked.

And living with Sam would mean I'd have to eat real food. Pregnant woman cannot live on take out alone. I'd have to get out of bed on my days off, and I'm not sure I can do that yet. I'm not sure I'm ready to go back to living, quite yet.

I know I shouldn't feel like I'm betraying Charlie. People have more than one kid, and they make it. So why do I feel like the fact that I'm a father again is an affront to my dead son?

And why the hell am I so scared that I'll suck?

Charlie loved me right? I mean he hated me sometimes too. He hated Sarah's rule that he couldn't play with toy guns. I pretended it was my rule. He hated the way I could never tell him what I did. Hated when I was gone. Hated the way I couldn't watch shows with shouting. Hating the way I cowered the months after I came back from the POW camp.

But mostly he loved me, right?

I guess it doesn't really matter. Either way he's dead.

"Sam," I say. She looks at me startled, and perhaps a little bit offended that I'd interrupt her. This probably isn't a good time, "I can come back later," I stammer.

"No," she says smiling at me. It's a genuine smile, and I'm starting to realize how rare those are from Sam, "What did you want?"

"Ah…I just thought maybe you'd want to go to dinner with me on Friday."

Her face falls, "Oh, Jack."

Ok, pretend you weren't just punched in the stomach. You weren't even sure you wanted this, "It's ok Sam. We never really defined what exactly this was."

"No, Jack, I want to see if it can be real," she flinches, "That didn't sound right. I mean it is real, but…"

"I know what you mean. You'd rather do it as a couple," I say.

"Right, as long as we agree we'll do it if the couple doesn't work out," she says nervously.

"Definitely, Sam," I say. I have all these doubts and fear, and then I think about my kid, and I just…I love it so much already, there isn't a chance of me not being the best Dad I can. Even if that isn't much.

"But I just meant not this Friday," she says.

"Right, so…we'll just pick a time that will work."

"Yeah, almost any other time, but I'll be out of town."

"Wait, what? Out of town?" her face falls a bit, "Sorry, Sam. I'm really not that guy. I know that J…you've been with that kind of guy before. The one who needs to know where you are every second of every day. I promise that I am not that guy. I won't ask you those questions. I won't pretend I own you, and I won't stalk you."

"No, Jack," she says, "the father of my baby can know where I'm going this weekend. I'm going to D.C."

"You're telling Dad?" I ask. She gives me a look which clearly indicates that she thinks me calling her father "Dad" is a little weird, and also really funny.

"Right, I mean, it's not something I am looking forward to, but putting it off isn't going to make it any better."

"No of course not, but…you're going alone?"

She gives me a really strange look, "who would I bring?"

I roll my eyes, "Your baby's father!"

She snorts, "I thought you wanted to be alive to be this kid's father."

"Sam, he's going to be more pissed if I'm not there. And if we are going to have a relationship I'm going to have to eventually meet your dad. And if I don't go now that's not going to help me out when I do meet him."

She bites her lip, "I know Jack, I just…can't do it."

I've never been good at this touchy feely stuff. That's one thing I thought would be easy about this relationship, Sam doesn't really do the touchy feely stuff either. But that just makes it harder. Sarah told me exactly what she thought, and I still didn't know what the hell to do with it. With Sam I'm actually going to have to figure stuff out.

"What's the hard part?"

She looks up at me with wet eyes. Sam doesn't seem like a crier. Pregnancy hormones? "I don't want you to see my dad…and the way my dad…" she stops talking.

"What's wrong?"

"He's going to yell, and he's going to be disappointed, and he's going to be furious, and I don't want you to see me…the way my dad sees me. I can't do that yet. I need you to see all my good parts for months and months, otherwise…you're going to agree with him. Think I'm some slut that tried to rape you in the locker room."

"Sam," I say grabbing her face. God, where do I start with that, "What happened in the locker room was a hell of a long way from rape. Alien influence yes, but consensual as hell." She smiles, "And I know your good parts. I know that you are one of the best astrophysicists in the world."

"I'm sorry, one of the best?" she breaks in.

"I hear there is a Canadian by the name of McKay..."

"McKay, please! Have you read his stuff?" She looks at me, "Never mind."

"Yeah, actually just saw his name on the list of people General Hammond was considering asking to join the SGC. I have no doubt you are THE top of your field. And you can beat Mongolian warlords in hand to hand combat. And you're gorgeous Sam."

She doesn't believe it. How the hell did she miss it? Did she grow up in a house without mirrors or something?

"You are. You're amazing in every way I can think of, and I'm not going to think different of you. Even if I see the way your Dad sees you. And I could be an asset. Divert the disappointment a little," I tease.

But I can see on her face that it is so not a joke.

"He loves you Sam."

"How do you know that?"

I walk forward and put my hand on her stomach. It's the second time I've touched her since the antihistamines cleared my head. And neither of these touches are about her, "Because he's a dad, Sam, and that's how these things work."

And she's in my arms bawling.

I comfort her. While she's in my arms crying I'm suddenly glad she can't see my face. I just remembered. I knocked up the General's daughter.


	5. The General's Daughter

Note: This chapter talks a bit more about the details of pregnancy (and things that go wrong in pregnancy) that some people may want to know. You were warned. Also, it was written by someone who has never been pregnant, and is getting information off the internet. Reputable looking internet sites yes, and I did take enough college undergrad biology courses to think I know what I'm talking about. But there is a good chance I have no clue. Although, it was edited by the wonderful BruisedReed who does know what she's talking about, and fixed some errors.

Note 2: Ok, I get that you guys still think I'm wrong about the frat regs. But I've read them, again and again. And they don't talk about chain of command. Navy regulations do. Maybe, you guys are confused with navy and air force regulations. I've talked to people in the Air Force who say I'm right about these frat regs. If they, and I are wrong, just suspend the disbelief and ride along with me for this story. Rest assured, that Jack and Sam will not be returning to the same team at any point in the story, because I am well aware that would never happen.

**Sam**

I hunch over the seat in the airplane.

"You alright?" Jack asks concerned. I hear him rustling around with something in the pocket of the seat in front of him, and I'm annoyed. I'm sick with HIS kid, I'm painfully aware, and he's looking for a magazine? Then he slips the air sick bag into my hand. Oh.

"I don't need that, yet anyway," I say.

He rubs my back, "the plane is making it bad?"

"Breathing makes it bad."

"Morning sickness is actually a good sign," he informs me, "less chance of miscarriage."

"Really?" I say looking at him.

He nods.

"I really need to get these books read," I say holding one of them up. I wanted to bring all the books. But I know that I often have a lot of unwarranted optimism. I brought two books with me, which is probably one and half more than I'll get read. Less if I have to work this hard to prevent hurling.

"Want me to read to you?" he asks.

I laugh, "I really don't think they contain the sorts of thing you want to read aloud."

"Nor the sorts of things you want to hear when you don't feel good," he adds.

"Besides, we have a lot to talk about," I say, "I should give you a General Carter briefing."

"Retired Major General in the Air Force, Born 1938, married Dorothy Wallis, had two children Mark and Samantha," he spouts out.

"Hey that's me," I pop in.

"What a coincidence," he says, "Spent most of his career in Soviet countries. Go in, plant tracking devices, come back and remove them when we have what we need kind of things. Good at it. His wife died in a car accident, and he never returned to field work" he looks at me concerned as he says those words, "He ran Creek Air Base in Nevada before he was transferred to Washington. There he turned into a politician before retiring."

Where to begin. "Ok, to start with don't ever call him a politician."

"He doesn't like it?"

"I don't like it. Second of all, don't talk about Mark, they don't get along. And don't talk about Mom."

He puts an arm around me, "Sorry," he whispers too close to my ear. It tickles my ear. It seems weird to me that we are this close. I mean it shouldn't be weird. We had sex. A lot of it. But we weren't exactly ourselves, and my memories of it are anything but clear. And since then we went back to a very hands off, professional relationship. So this is weird.

"It's ok; just…that's not what I was talking about. I know you know the facts about Dad, it's just…" I close my eyes. What? What do I want Jack to know? It's more what I want him NOT to know. But I can't exactly say ignore this, and don't notice that.

"What?" he asks removing the arm. I hope he didn't notice its effect on me. I hope he doesn't think I don't want it. I do want it, right?

"Don't tell him you were my commanding officer. Just tell him the truth…now…we work at the same base, and we're both officers. Try to make black ops look…less dark."

"The man knows enough about the Air Force to know how dark black ops are."

"Jonas was black ops," I say. I immediately regret it. His face looks all sympathetic. I hate that he gets like that every time we talk about Jonas. I hate that he knows about Jonas. I don't know how much he knows, or how he knows. I mean who I dated shouldn't get into my file right? It seems so…sexist that it did.

But Jack must know more than was in the file, and I hated what that meant. I must be the subject of gossip. Probably the same gossip I'd heard in academy, "General's daughter" "dumb blond" "slept her way to the top." Yep, but now that I'm pregnant with my commanding officer's baby all those rumors will go away for good. I'm even getting sarcastic in my thoughts to myself.

I sigh loudly before I know what I've done. Jack raises his eyebrows in a way that clearly asks for an explanation.

"Just remembering that I'm having my commanding officer's baby."

He slumps back against the seat, "At least you didn't knock up the General's daughter." And I notice for the first time that Jack does look a little pale. Poor Jack, he's no doubt terrified, and I haven't been helping matters.

"Jack, my dad doesn't appear to like anyone at first. And he has actively tried to avoid liking anyone I've dated in the past. But you can get through that. You're like Dad in some ways. You deal with emotions in much the same way…jokes."

He nods his head. There are other important ways that are the same. But I don't want to go into analyzing the ways the father of my kid and MY father are similar.

"He does the scary Air Force General thing when he's most threatened," I say.

"It's going to be ok," he assures me. But the words sound hollow.

"If you only knew how many of my boyfriends my dad has scared away," I say.

He leans back in his seat and closes his eyes, "Ra, Apophis…" he pauses, and opens an eye, "I was about to make a list of the ten scariest people I've ever met, but I realized you're not cleared to know the rest of it, so I'll just give you their countries of origin, East Germany, Soviet Union, Iraq, Iran, and Cuba. You really think your Dad is going to bump one of those guys off the list?"

I laugh, "The amazing part is that Teal'c doesn't make the list."

"Teal'c?" he asks with a playful raise of the eyebrow, "teddy bear."

And my dad is a teddy bear in the same way that Teal'c is. This is going to be all right.

"You feeling better?" he asks in a way that makes me wonder if this wasn't all a clever distraction.

I nod.

"I have gum, would gum help?" he asks as he begins to fish for it.

I shake my head.

"Crackers, I should have brought crackers."

"Jack, I can take care of myself," I say defensively.

"Of course, but I like taking care of you."

"I just…sometimes I feel like you think of me as an incubator." His face falls, and I feel like I've wounded him, "I'm sorry."

"No, it's ok. I'll try to back off. I know your independence is important to you. Jonas…" he thinks that's the only reason. It's not. He acts like you need a reason to believe in women's lib. He's a slightly enlightened, highly polished chauvinist. Better than most that I've dated. He continues talking, "Anyway, I don't get to do much. You know, until the kid comes. You get to grow a human being. I get to offer you crackers. But I don't want to annoy you," he says.

"Jack," I put my hand on his arm, "keep offering the crackers." Because for the first time I get that it isn't about worry, or ownership. It's about affection, and we aren't really comfortable with other ways of showing affection yet. In fact I wasn't even sure he felt affection.

I put my head back, "Jack…you have family?"

"Parents split when I was a kid. Lost contact with my dad. Mom died a few years back. Right after Sarah and I got married."

So no family. No living family. Except an ex-wife. I wanted to ask more questions about that. Did he talk to her? But I didn't want to push it. This "us" was still new and fragile. We hadn't even been on a date yet.

"Your dad and brother don't get along, how about you and Mark?"

Right to the bone of things. "We…I don't know. Sometimes it's great. Mostly the kids' stuff. You know I come up for a birthday or whatever, and things are great. And other times," she sighs, "he hates that I joined the Air Force."

Jack nods. Just nods like ok. I look at him surprised.

"Harder to love someone in the Air Force than to be one," he says matter-of-factly.

I give him a questioning look.

He shrugs, "Dad was Air Force. Maybe still is. Mom was furious when I enlisted. But when I made that choice it wasn't out of hatred or love for the Air Force. Just the right choice for me."

"Enlisted?" I ask.

"Yeah, enlisted. Just hope the kid gets your brains Ms. Academy."

"It takes some pretty good brains to get that many promotions."

He shrugs, "Some of those promotions were for being the one that didn't die."

"Pretty important talent," I say, and suddenly I can't resist putting my head against his shoulder. He leans his head against mine.

"I'm here Sam, always."

**Jacob**

She gets off the plane, my little girl and her new boyfriend. He's like the others. Tall, strong, and darkness in the eyes. She was engaged to one of these six months ago, and she has another already? I hope he isn't as bad as Jonas. But he's probably worse. They keep getting crazier.

And what was the rush. Six months ago, she was going to marry another man, and already she's bringing this one home.

He has his arm around her guiding her off the plane. She says she hates that…the chauvinism masked as chivalry. But she picks them every time.

Then I see the book.

That's why she's bringing a guy home so early. She's pregnant.

"Hi, Dad," she says with a smile.

"It's nice to meet you, Sir," the man says.

"This is Jack," Sam offers. When I don't respond she adds, "I told you about him on the phone…more than once."

I nod my head. It's going to be a little longer before I'll let on I know the guys name perfectly well. Just in case I have to hunt him down.

"When are you due, Sam?" I ask.

Her eyes go huge. Maybe she didn't even mean to tell me this visit, just let me get to know the guy first. "The book, Sam," Jack indicates.

She looks down at it and sighs, "I don't suppose it matters, I had all these gentle ways to tell you, but they wouldn't have helped. Not really."

"You're the father?" I ask the man ignoring her.

"Yes sir," he says, extending his hand, "Colonel Jack O'Neill."

"Air Force?" I ask.

"What else is there?" he smiles like he thinks that is going to impress me.

"Black ops?" I press.

"Not anymore," he says, but the mention of black ops makes all the darkness cover his face.

"Work with my daughter?" I ask.

He looks guilty. Great, apparently there is something untoward there.

"Yes, sir, different departments, but both out of Cheyenne Mountain."

"What department do you work in?" I ask.

"Deep space radar telemetry," he says.

"That's where Sammy works." Or rather the crappy cover story for where Sammy works.

"I got transferred to the science department," Sam says.

"Because of the kid," I say.

"It's not permanent," Jack assures me, "She'll be back where she belongs after the baby comes."

"Jack you're not leaving…" she stops herself cold, "you're not requesting a transfer. I'm already transferred."

"But you're more important," he protests.

I clear my throat. They've pretty much confirmed that they were on the same team. A big no-no. You'd think Sam would know better, but based on her previous events I know that she doesn't.

"Are you guys hungry?"

Sam's face goes pale. Poor thing. Dot was so sick when she had Mark. Better with Sam. "Might be a boy," I offer.

She looks at me questioningly.

"The morning sickness, supposed to be worse with boys."

"I REALLY need to get those pregnancy books read," Sam mutters.

"It will be ok, Sam, you know the important stuff, and you wouldn't even find that in the book," he assures her.

"And I already gave up my caffeine," she says.

Dot never managed that. She'd steal a cup every once in awhile, early in the morning. Felt so bad about it, thought our kids would end up with two heads or something. Even when the doctor told her it wasn't going to matter she still acted like she was committing some kind of a crime. She was hard on herself, obsessive in her quest for perfection, just like Sammy.

"A little caffeine won't hurt the baby," I offer.

"I won't take the chance," Sammy says placing a hand protectively over her stomach.

"But we should eat," Jack offers.

Sam nods, "Can we eat at your house, Dad? Way less smells that way," she begs.

"No problem," I say. I help them with their bags, and once everything is pretty well settled into the car I ask the big question, "you guys planning on getting married?"

"Married is a pretty touchy subject for both of us right now," Sam says.

"Oh?" I ask.

"I'm divorced," Jack offers.

She reaches into the backseat to put a supportive hand on his knee.

"How recently?" I ask.

"Dad!" Sam scolds.

"Just trying to figure out if your baby is the cause, Samantha," I say.

"No," Jack says firm and offended from the back seat. "I never cheated on Sarah. Even a year after the divorce when I was with Sam it still felt like cheating."

And I can tell Sam didn't know this. She looks hurt, and scared, and maybe I should just keep my trap shut and not look too closely, because I'm not sure this relationship will stand up to close scrutiny, and I don't want to be the reason my grandkid is fatherless.

"Jack, I'm so sorry," Sam says. What the hell is she apologizing for?

"Not your fault Sam, we've been over this," he says.

"What are you talking about?" I ask.

"Nothing Dad," Sam says flashing me a grim smile before turning forward in her seat.

"This will be ok, Sam," he says giving her shoulder a squeeze.

**Sam**

Why did I agree to let Jack come? Temporary insanity, that has to be it. Dad's going to hate Jack. Jack is going to hate Dad, and I'm almost certain that they are both going to end up hating me. When we get to the house I pull Jack's things into the guest room. Except it's not a guest room.

"Ah…Dad you turned the guest room into a gym."

"Just one of them," Dad says with a shrug.

"Ah…where is Jack going to sleep?" I ask.

"Same place Jonas slept when he stayed here," he says. How many fights did Dad and I have over where Jonas slept? Yeah, I distantly remember screaming at him, "I have sex Dad, get over it." Smooth.

"No," I say.

"I'll take the couch, Sam, no worries," Jack offers.

"You called me 'delusional' for trying to pretend you weren't having sex with your fiancé. Now you have a kid with someone, I would be really delusional if…" he starts.

"Dad, Jack and I are pretty new, I think we'd be more comfortable with separate sleeping arrangements," I offer awkwardly. Who would have known that admitting to my dad I'm not having sex with a guy would be as awkward as admitting I was.

"Pretty new, so you're having a kid with someone with whom your relationship is 'pretty new'? I mean I knew it was pretty new because you only moved out there three months ago. But so new you don't share a room?" He's furious, "This baby is the result of a one night stand!" I flinch, "A one night stand with your commanding officer, great judgment Sam!"

Jack looks at me, but it's not sympathy, I don't even know what it is. Then he looks back at Dad, and I know exactly what it was. "Right now I don't care if you're her father. Nobody gets to talk to Sam like that. Usually she's the one who tells people that. She's not doing it, because you're her dad, and she loves you. I don't love you yet, Sir, so I'm going to do it for her. Nobody talks to Sam like that." He looks at me, "You want to go to a hotel Sam?"

I shake my head.

"Ok, show me to the other guest room. We're having a kid together; we can certainly share a room. Nothing has to happen, Sam," he says.

As soon as we are alone in the guest room he turns to me looking panicked, "Was that ok, Sam? Does he hate me now?"

I laugh in a way that isn't that far from tears, "No, probably respects you. I know I do," I grab his arm, "Thank you Jack. No one has ever done that for me. Stand up to him. I mean Mark stands up to him all the time, but for himself, not for me."

"Ok, so you want to go back down, or hide up here?"

"I traveled across the country to see my Dad. I want to see him."

"Ok," he says giving me a long hug before we walk back down to my dad.

**Jacob**

But I don't love you yet, Sir! God, the man has balls. I hear steps on the hallway. Two sets of steps. Huh. Who would have thought it?

"You wanta play pool, Dad?" she asks.

He tilts his head at her, "This is the man that turned you into a pool shark, Carter?"

"You are really, going to have to call me Sam now that there are two Carters in the room," she scolds making her head rest on his shoulder for a split second, before bouncing back up. He leans into the contact.

Whatever the hell they are in their relationship, it's somewhere with real affection. "Actually, I was Sammy the Shark's first hustle victim. Imagine your ten year old daughter bets you no chores and double allowance if she wins versus no allowance and double chores if you win on a pool game. Sounds like a good deal right? You'd be wrong."

"I bought my first telescope with the money I made off of pool that year," she says with a grin.

"Mostly your brother's teenage friends if I remember correctly," I say with a grin.

**Sam**

"So how are we going to do this?" I ask nervously as we return to our room later.

"I'll sleep on the floor if you want Sam, but I was kind of hoping for a cuddle," he says.

"I'd like that," I say offering him a grin, and a kiss on his cheek.

A few minutes later we're both ready for bed. He sits down on the left side, which is great. I like the right side, and almost all guys like the right side too. Causes problems.

I lay down next to him, and his arm is immediately on my belly.

"I can't believe there is something alive in there," I whisper.

"I know, it's pretty amazing stuff," he whispers into my neck. A shiver goes down my spine from his breath.

"This is going to work," I tell him, "I don't know how it is going to work, but I know it will."

"Sam, I wanted to ask you something," his voice sounds uncertain…scared. I turn to him. I can't help but run my hand through his hair. "I think we should live together."

I crinkle my forehead.

He takes a breath, "Here is the thing, no matter how we arrange it, if you and I live in different houses I miss stuff. Or you miss stuff. Or we both miss stuff. I mean I could do the weekend dad thing. You know, play dates in the park. Two rooms at two separate houses, some division of time. But I want to be with this kid all the time."

I nod my head. Frankly, I'm a little scared to be left alone with the kid.

"But I don't think we should live together live together yet. I think we need to look at our relationship as something separate from our child rearing. I think we should do separate bedrooms until we're ready, down the road, for more."

"I don't know; this whole platonic bed thing is nice," I say.

He laughs, "Oh, Samantha, if I shared a bed with you every night it would not be platonic for long," then he grows serious, "but this is nice."

"It is," I say.

"Ok, so where would you want to live? My place? Your place? New place?" he asks.

"My place is too small, two bedrooms, how about yours?" I ask.

"Three, but I don't want you to feel like you are squeezing into my life. I want you to feel like we're combining lives," he says.

I grin at him, "I'll throw away some of your crap. I'll make you feel better. Getting a house is a lot of work, and we have a lot to focus on for the next couple months, we don't have time for it. You have a good backyard?"

He nods, "A block away from a really great park too."

"Ok, I want to see it before I give my final approval. But it sounds great. I'm paying half the mortgage."

He shakes his head.

"Oh yes I am. It will be cheaper than my place, anyway."

"I have to pay the mortgage whether you are there or not," he protests.

"I don't want to feel like a kept woman," I say softly.

He sighs, "I want to take care of you, but I get that I need to let you do this. So we'll split it equal. Even though I'd pay for everything."

"You're a good guy," I tell him leaning forward and giving him a kiss on the lips.

"'Night, Sam," he says with a faint smile.

"Goodnight, Jack."

**Sam-Later**

I didn't know this whole have-to-pee-all-the-time thing was going to start this early in the pregnancy. I figured it happened later on, when a three plus pound baby started pressing on your bladder. But ever since I hit the two week mark, three weeks ago now, I've been getting up to pee at least two times a night.

I almost didn't turn on the light. I mean I'm familiar enough with the bathroom I wouldn't have to, and if you don't turn on the light, you don't completely wake up. But I did.

And so I saw it. Just a centimeter in diameter-a spot of blood. For a second my mind isn't awake enough to grasp what's happening. I'm like, damn, I don't have any pads. And then I realize. I'm pregnant and bleeding and I start to cry. Then I wipe, and there is more blood, and I nearly go hysterical.

I run back into the bedroom and shake Jack awake. "Jack, I'm bleeding," I practically scream at him.

He's not really awake yet either. He glances me over, "put pressure on it, we'll get back to the gate," he mutters.

"No, Jack, wake up, and take me to the hospital, before we lose the baby!" I scream.

That gets him up. I hear a muffled curse, and I'm not even sure what word he said, but I know from the tone it was a curse. "I'm going to get your dad's car keys," he tells me.

"I'll put on some clothes," I tell him.

**Jacob**

There is a pounding on my bedroom door, "Jacob! I need your car keys NOW!" he shouts.

What the hell is happening? Why does some guy I barely know want some car keys in the middle of the night? Are they breaking up? Am I being robbed?

I pull the door open, "What's going on?"

And his face stops me cold, it's full of panic, "Sam's bleeding. She thinks…it's a miscarriage," he says.

"God, I'll drive you guys," I tell him darting back into the room for my keys.

**Jacob-later**

They sit together in the back seat. I'm pretty sure neither is buckled in, and he's holding her, rubbing her back, trying to get her calmed down even though he is way more panicked then she is.

"I'm so sorry, Jack," she sobs.

"It's not your fault, you did everything right," he soothes.

"You lost Charlie, and now you're going to…" he voice breaks off in a sob.

"Hey," he grab pulls her back a little, "we don't know we're losing it."

She clutches him close to her again, "Jack, I don't want it to die," she pleads.

"I know, Sam, I know," he says pulling her closer.

**Sam**

The doctor looks at me coolly, and without much compassion. I don't think I'd be able to deal with it if Jack wasn't there freaking out. If we're going to lose a kid, we sure as hell are going to lose a kid while freaking out. Fighting for it.

"How far along are you?" he asks.

"Six weeks," I say.

"Eight Sam, they count from the last period, not conception," Jack offers.

"Right, I'm kind of new at this," I apologize to the doctor.

"You're doing great, Sam."

"How much blood was it?" the doctor asks.

"Spotting, just a little spotting," I say.

Jack looks at me in surprise. The doctor draws my blood.

"Any cramps or abdominal pain?" he asks.

"No."

"Have you had an ultrasound, yet?"

I nod, "Yeah, four days ago."

"And they saw the baby?" the doctor asks.

"Yeah, it didn't look much like a baby," I hedge.

"Have you had a previous ectopic pregnancy or miscarriage?"

I look at Jack, because I have no idea what the hell he is talking about.

"Have you ever been pregnant before Sam?" he asks.

Well, that's an easy question to answer, "No."

"History of miscarriage in your family?" the doctor continues.

"Not that I know of," I offer. But to be honest, I wouldn't know. My family doesn't talk about the bad things that have happened to them.

"Ok, I'm going to do a pelvic exam now," he says after he's handed off my blood to the nurses. Jack grabs my hand.

"It looks good," the doctor says a few minutes later, "Your cervix is not dilated. That means you're probably not going to have a miscarriage tonight."

I hear Jack breathe a sigh of relief.

"What do you mean tonight?" I ask not even remotely reassured. Basically what I heard is that I'm going to lose this kid after I get even more attached to it.

"I'm going to need a urine sample, and then we'll do an ultrasound," he says, "Once we get the test results in we'll know the odds of this threatened miscarriage leading to a miscarriage down the road."

The doctor is about to leave the room when I grab him by the arm "Is this my fault?" I ask him.

He looks at me with compassion for the first time, "The majority of miscarriages in the first trimester are caused by problems with the baby, and not preventable. I know your blood pressure is fine so that rules that out. Do you use street drugs, smoke, drink excessive amounts of caffeine?"

"Before I knew I was pregnant I drank a beer on a couple of different nights, and I had two three cups of coffee every day for the first two and half weeks. But I didn't know!" Jack gives me a hug as my voice breaks on the last couple of words.

"That wouldn't have led to this. Binge drinking or five or more cups of coffee might have. But like I said, this probably isn't your fault. A nurse will be in to get your urine sample in a few minutes, and I'll be back with the ultrasound machine soon."

As soon as he shuts the door Jack sits down on the examination table to give me a hug. "Jack you have to go tell Dad."

"I have to stay with you," and it's the first time since this started that he sounds more scared than I do.

"He's out there, probably thinking I've already lost the baby," I whisper. "You can come right back after you've told him."

Jack nods, and leaves me all alone. I feel cold all of a sudden, and I hold my hands to myself. I suddenly realize it's like I'm hugging the baby.

I've always kind of thought that people who talked to their unborn babies were a little unbalanced. But suddenly I'm willing to try anything. I mean, I don't even think the thing has ears, but I can't do much else to save it right now, so I'll try.

"Momma wants you," I whisper, "You know that right? I mean you are a surprise, Broca, but Momma likes surprises. Daddy wants you too. So fight ok? I promise we'll be ready for you if you can just fight to stay alive."

A nurse comes in just then holding a urine sample cup. Funny, but I have to pee again, already.

**Jack**

Jacob doesn't even see me when I walk into the waiting room. He's doubled over, his head in his hands. He doesn't look good.

"Jacob," I say softly sitting next to him.

He looks up at me with the startled, scared expression that clearly says get the hell away from me; I don't want to hear it. He looks away for a second. "Is Sam ok?" He doesn't ask about the baby, because he doesn't want bad news.

"Yeah, she's fine. So is the baby," he looks at me in surprise. "The bleeding was light, and apparently we're not losing the baby right now. Although there is a danger of that later. They're running tests to see what our chances are."

He looks confused, "The baby is ok?"

"For now."

"Tell Sam, that I'm sorry…I acted like a jerk…probably caused…" he breaks down in tears.

"Her blood pressure was fine," I say, "The doctor said it wasn't caused by anything anyone did." Although refraining from yelling at his pregnant daughter certainly wouldn't have hurt anything.

"Jacob, the doctor asked if there was any history of miscarriage in the family, and Sam said she didn't know," I prompt quietly. "Ah…she had an aunt that had one, but the woman smoked like a chimney," he mutters.

"Ok, I'm going to go back to Sam; I'll let you know when we know more."

He nods.

When I get back to the room the doctor is back with an ultrasound machine.

"Doctor, I just talked to her dad, and the only history of miscarriage is an aunt that smoked a lot."

"More good news," the doctor says as he squirts the fluid on Sam's belly.

They turn the monitor on, and a blob that we were told was our baby appears on the screen. Then a heartbeat resounds in the room.

"You're eight weeks?" the doctor asks.

"Since my last period, yeah," Sam says obviously mesmerized by the heartbeat.

"It's a good strong heartbeat for that age, and the placement of the baby is perfect." The doctor turns to us, "Look, I haven't seen your lab results, but from what I've seen so far, this is the best outcome we could hope for. It's definitely a threatened miscarriage, which increases your risk of miscarrying later, but if your lab results follow with what I've seen so far we're only up to 17% of miscarriage, all pregnancies have a 2% change at this stage. We're still looking at a better chance of it being premature. But if you keep taking care of yourself, avoid sex, and get a little extra rest for a couple of weeks, you're going to be fine."

"I flew out here, did that cause it?" Sam asks, a new worry having sprung into her mind.

"No, that shouldn't be a problem until much later in the pregnancy."

"So I can fly out Sunday afternoon?" Sam asks, and she looks terrified of being stuck with her Dad longer.

"As long as you take the records from here to your primary physician and have him/her run a test." Non sexist language, she's going to love that. "We can only find out so much now. After 72 hours we'll know more. If your levels rise you're probably in the clear, if they go down it's time to worry."

"So we're in limbo for three days?" Sam asks in horror.

"I'm sorry, the news is as good as it can be when you bleed during pregnancy," he says.

"Right, I should just be grateful there still is a baby," she says placing two hands over her stomach.

**Jacob**

I didn't like how long it took Jack to come back out with an update, but I was well and truly surprised when he came out with Sam.

"They're letting you go home?" I ask in shock.

She makes a face which clearly implies she no longer thinks of my house as "home", maybe never did.

"They told me that I'm fine for now. I should come back if I start to…" she doesn't finish it, but I nod.

"There will be more tests in three days; right now we have an 83% chance of having a pregnancy." She grins at him, so I know he played with words a bit to make it better.

"And the chances go up or down based on the test," she says.

"Anything we're supposed to do to help?" I ask.

"A few things we're not supposed to do," Sam says, "but they shouldn't be a problem."

"Ok, so we can really just take you?" I ask.

"Yeah," she says.

Suddenly I can't avoid hugging her. I hold her tight for a long time. When I pull away she looks at me confused, "You were scared?"

"Of course I was scared!" I exclaim.

"You didn't want me to be pregnant."

"No, I didn't want my unwed daughter to be pregnant with a baby that might damage her career. But I sure as hell didn't want my grandbaby to die."

"Daddy," she says as she holds me tight again.


	6. Limbo

**Jack**

"Come on, let's get you back to sleep," I tell Sam when we finally get her home. It's only a few hours before morning, but she's only got a few hours of sleep so far.

"I don't think I can sleep," she says.

"Sam," I sooth.

"I just…I want to keep checking…what if I start bleeding, and don't notice it?"

I cut her off, "You need sleep to. The baby needs sleep. Wasn't that one of the things you were supposed to do? Rest?"

"I know, I just….hold me?" she pleads.

"Yeah," I say.

I only takes a few seconds for Sam to fall asleep. I feel like I need to get up and move, but I don't dare disturb her so I lay there for twenty minutes until she rolls over. Then I slide out of bed and head down to the kitchen.

The light is on, but I know Jacob's heard my steps on the door so I just walk in. "Want some cake Jack?"

"Actually no, I have a…cake thing."

He raises his eyebrows waiting for an explanation.

"It's classified."

"The reason you hate cake is classified?" he asks dubiously.

"Actually yes," I say.

"What kind of crazy crap are you into?" he asks. I start to answer him, but he waves me off with his hand, "I know, deep space radar telemetry."

"Jacob there is something classified, but I feel like you should know as much as I can tell you. Sam isn't going to tell you, and you need to know." His eye are on me, "It's about how this kid was conceived."

Both of his hands are flying through the air, "I do not need the details on that one."

"No, I know, but you do sort of. See we were on a mission together. I'm sure you've guessed that we were on the same team, and that I was her commanding officer. Our team was exposed to a mind altering chemical. Made people act without thinking, primary impulses, and all that. Most people fought, in fact two people died fighting. But Sam and I didn't fight." I haven't been looking at him throughout this confession, but I look up now to see if he gets what I mean. I can see he does. "She got sick before me, so she blames herself. 'Cause at first I was still with it enough to say no. Then the chemical started to influence me too. So she thinks what she did was…" but I can't say the word Sam uses for what she did to me, especially not to her father, "she thinks what she did to me was really bad. But it was because of the chemical. Anyway, when it was over I didn't want her leaving the team to date me, and she didn't want that either. So that's how we ended up having a baby and then not dating until a month later. I just wanted you to know your daughter isn't a 'slut'." I spit the word back at him with more venom than is strictly necessary.

"I know, I shouldn't have called her that. I was just worried."

"About?" I ask.

He looks at me, "That you wouldn't be sticking around."

"I'll be around. Even if Sam and I don't work out, and I really hope we will. I'll be around."

He nods, acknowledging, although not necessarily believing my comment. "Who's Charlie?"

I'd hoped he wouldn't ask, but I know we were talking about Charlie in the car, and front seats and back seats are not that far apart.

"He's my son."

He doesn't look particularly surprised, "How old is he?"

"He would have been ten by now…he died a year and a half ago."

Jacob looks like I just slapped him.

"My wife left me not long after. The divorce has been legal for awhile, so you don't need to worry about that.

"I'm sorry, Jack," he says, and he really does look sorry, "How did he die?"

Another question that I REALLY wish he wouldn't ask. "He accidently shot himself." I add in the accidently only when I'm leaving off the 'with my gun.' On the one hand, I don't want people to think Charlie was suicidal; on the other hand, I don't want anyone to exonerate me as the cause of my son's death. I'm guilty as hell. Jacob Carter is perhaps one of the only people that I don't want to know about the guilt. I want him to trust me-with his daughter, and grandkid. Even if I can't quite trust myself.

"That is horrible," Jacob says.

I nod my head, and suddenly wished I was up in bed with my arms around Sam.

"Jack, I'm sure you were…and will be…a great Dad."

"Thanks," I say. Even though he's wrong on the first count I'm hoping he isn't on the second.

**Daniel**

"Hey Sam," I greet warmly. She looks awful, but I'm not going to mention it. The idea of the pregnancy has been quite a shock to her, and I'm pretty sure she's been doing a lot of throwing up.

"Hey," she says sounding more than just sick, sounding…depressed.

"Is everything ok?" I ask.

"Just had a rough weekend."

"Your dad does not deserve you."

She looks at me surprised.

"Oh, it wasn't his fault I had an awful weekend," she clarifies.

"Jack?" I ask in surprise.

"I almost lost the baby."

"Oh, my God Sam," I say.

"It's probably ok now," she says with a weak smile, "You know where Jack is?"

"No, what do you mean probably?" I say concerned.

"Just a bit higher risk of miscarriage, we have this test, so if you see Jack, tell him I'm in the infirmary," she almost walks away, before she adds, "for the test. Make sure you don't freak him out."

I debate going with Sam, who plainly needs someone, instead I go on a search for the guy Sam really needs to be there for her.

**Janet**

"How was your weekend?" I ask as Sam comes into the room. In the months since the Broca Divide incident, the two of us have become friends. I know that she has been dreading telling her father for a long time. She doesn't say a word, just hands me a folder. I open it up. Medical records. Her medical records.

"Oh Sam!" I say. I look up, and she looks scared.

"They said I should have more testing done today."

"Of course, you know there is still a really good chance that the baby is going to be just fine."

"Yeah," she says with a faint smile.

"Don't you want Jack to be here?"

"I can't find him."

"I can call the General to page him."

She shakes her head hard, "You call him to the infirmary without information and he will freak out. And you can't give him information that would cause him to not freak out without telling everyone we are pregnant. And Jack doesn't want people to know yet."

"And you do?" I ask.

"Daniel's looking for Jack. But I need to know the results of this test, like right now," she says changing the subject.

"Ok,we just need some blood work."

**Sam**

"I got your results," Janet says just as Jack bursts through the door with Daniel behind him.

"Sam, I'm sorry, Daniel said you were doing the tests. I took that "72 hour" thing seriously, and we had two hours left. I was looking into moving trucks to rent."

"Hold it you're moving?" Janet asks.

"I am…probably, it's not for sure yet," I say giving Jack a glare like he ought to remember this.

"I thought you'd decided to stay in Colorado Springs," Daniel says sounding really disappointed.

"Uh, we talked about my moving into Jack's house," I say feeling a smile creep across my face.

"That's fast," Daniel says with his eyebrows raised.

"Separate bedrooms, Danny boy. We decided to do this so I don't have to miss out on pregnancy related stuff, and in my effort to hurry the move, I almost missed out on the most important pregnancy stuff of all. Have you done the test yet?"

I nod, "Janet was just about to give us the results."

I'm sitting on the exam table with my legs dangling off one side. He jumps up next to me, and grabs my hand, "Ready Doc."

"These results are very good," she tells us with a smile, "The best we can hope for. I wouldn't be too worried. With the results you got in D.C. and the ones we have here it doesn't look like we have much to worry about."

"Can you give me a percentage?" I ask.

"What?"

"What's the percentage chance I'll lose this baby?" I ask not looking at her.

She puts the folder down, "I think there is at least a 90% chance of carrying this baby to term."

"Really?" Jack says.

She nods.

"Janet…we can handle the truth," I protest

"I'm telling it to you. These are really good numbers."

I hop off the table, and give her a hug.


	7. Moving

**Sam**

I can't believe that I'm moving in with Jack already. A week ago weren't a couple. Four months ago we hadn't met. And we have yet to go on our first date. And today I'm moving into Jack's place.

I go to take down the front curtains in preparation for my team's…er… the team that used to be mine before I got pregnant, arrival. Outside the window I saw Jack's truck.

He flinches when I come out of the house.

"Hi, Jack."

"Hey," he says.

"You know houses have these new fangled things called doorbells. People ring them to alert people they are there."

He sighs, "I decided to come a couple of hours early to help you pack. Because moving is a lot of work, and you've been tired the past week. But after I got here it occurred to me that we might not be in the place yet where I can just show up at your house unannounced."

"So your plan was to hang out by your truck for a couple of hours?" I ask.

He shrugs.

"You do know that as of tomorrow your house will be mine, right? If I can't handle you showing up unannounced we're in big trouble," I say.

He shakes his head, "If you're going to laugh, Sam, laugh, enough of that smile-that-whishes it was a giggle thing."

I give him a quick kiss on the lips. I pull back and he looks surprised.

"It was sweet of you to come over early," he says.

"So you going to put me to work or what?"

"Yeah, you can go through my kitchen and pack up anything that is better than your stuff."

"All of it," he says, and I let myself laugh.

**Daniel**

Jack always accused me of being late for everything, but I was pretty sure I was on time today. But I must have been wrong. The door is wide open. Presumably, because things were being transferred to Jack's truck, but no one is taking loads out now.

I hear a clank coming from the kitchen. I peak into the kitchen, and they still have no idea that I am here. Sam is bent over reaching a pot from a low cupboard. Jack stands with a leg on each side of her body, and is reaching for something from the top cupboard.

"Comfortable are we?" I ask.

Jack drops a pan. The pan bounces out of the sink, and smacks Sam on the back. She screams in pain, and rears back causing the back of her head to make contact with the region of a person which is head level when you are on your knees. Jack tries desperately to back away from her, but ends up tripping over one of her legs. They both lay sprawled on the floor of the kitchen.

"Yes, Daniel?" Jack asks.

"Just asking if you were comfortable," I say with a laugh.

"Very comfortable, thanks for asking," Jack says folding his hands behind his head, and crossing his legs at the ankle. In the process he nearly kicks Sam in the head.

"When I want to go into labor remind me to invite Daniel over to surprise me," Sam says.

"Wouldn't be much of a surprise, if you invited me over," I say helping her up.

**Sam**

It seems strange to think of all of our stuff merged together when we don't even know each other. When I moved in with Jonas our stuff stayed pretty separate. His bookshelf, my bookshelf. My movies put in a closet, because his took up the whole shelf. Fighting over whose pictures went on the wall.

With Jack it was seamless. He plopped on the couches and decided mine was more comfortable. He made me pick his guest bed or my own. He had half his pictures taken down before I arrived. He let me arrange my books on his shelf using the Dewey decimal system. Our movies sit side by side, and he even offered me part of his closet if mine wasn't big enough (it was). Our shoes, our coats, our games all share shelves.

We feel like one family. As we sit and eat pizza with the rest of SG-1. We really feel like a family.

I have to remind myself that I really don't know him. That he's a stranger. Because he feels so familiar.

**Sam **

I'm a morning person, to the point that it creeps people out. So I wasn't alarmed when I got up on a Saturday before him.

I get ready for the day, and read for a bit. But now it's eleven, and I can't imagine anyone sleeping past eleven. I make eggs, bacon, waffles, and coffee figuring the smell will get him out of bed. The only result is I really want a cup of coffee.

I suddenly get the panicky thought that he's dead. It's illogical, but it exists.

I knock on his bedroom door, there is no response.

"Jack, I'm coming in," I warn.

There is no response. He's laying there on the bed. I reach over and check his pulse in his neck. I feel him laughing.

"You thought I was dead," he says looking at me.

"Just…I made breakfast."

"I can smell it," I says.

"Ok, up, because that caffeine is getting pretty tempting."

He lets out a big sigh.

"I'm not really going to drink the coffee," I offer.

"Sam..." he barely whispers, "after Charlie…I didn't work a year…I couldn't have worked for a year…I was…"

I brush the hair out of his face.

"…really depressed," he says.

"and you still are," I finish for him.

"No, I'm not really depressed anymore, I'm just a little bit depressed now," he mutters, "but the point is, I'm probably not getting out of bed today. I'm really going to try to be better before the baby comes."

I lay down in bed next to him, and cuddle close, "ok, a bed day. You want breakfast in bed?"

He smiles despite himself, "You're just going to lay around in bed with me?"

"Sure," I say, "as long as I can bring my laptop."

**Jack**

It's one of those rules of the universe. The quieter you try to be the louder you are. I drop the toaster as I put it away, and it clashes to the counter. I've lived alone for a little over a year, but I've gotten so used to it. Now that Sam's moved in (and I assure you she wasn't joking about throwing away my crap) I don't know how to act anymore.

"Jack," Sam's tired voice says.

"Sorry, I tried not to wake you," I say turning to her.

"It's ok, I had to get up in half an hour anyway. Hey, I'm glad you did," she says suddenly remembering, "you're going on a mission today."

"Yeah," I say. Our teams first mission without her. "You miss it?" I ask.

She puts a hand on her stomach, "Just take care of yourself."

"Will do." I say.

Then she leans forward and gives me a kiss that will definitely ensure I'll do my best to come back safe.


	8. Cold Lazarus

**Sam**

I haven't been in the locker room for a long time. I mean I sort of avoided it after the whole incident with…anyway by the time I was over avoiding it for that reason (because I found out how lucky I was to have had that whole incident) I had no reason to go there, because I was off the mission rotation. But there were some things I really needed from the locker room.

Jack is in there sitting on a bench looking a cigar box, "Hey, Jack. Imagine, the two of us being in here."

He doesn't react to anything I've said.

"Relax Jack, just a joke, I'm not going to jump you in the locker room…again," He still doesn't say a word to me. I walk a little closer and look over his shoulder. It's a picture of his ex-wife, dead son and him.

"Sara and Charlie," I say.

"Yes," Jack says quietly.

"Ok, you want to talk about it?" I say uncertainly sitting down next to him.

"Goodbye, Sam." He says in an eerily impersonal voice.

"Bye." I say stunned. Jack walks out of the room like a bulldozer and Daniel would have become collateral damage had he not dived out of the way on one foot, the other flying in the air behind him.

"Jack seems very…focused," Daniel says coming into the room after Jack had left.

"Yeah. He was looking at pictures of his family," I say.

"You're his family," Daniel says confused.

"I mean…Sara, Charlie," I say.

Daniel gives me a sympathetic look, "let me guess, he didn't want to talk about it."

"I guess that must be it," I say with a sigh, "but he could have just told me to get lost, and come back later. It's not like I don't know that he had a family before. It's not like I'd be mad that he still thinks about them. I'd be worried if he didn't, because that would mean he could forget about us," I say touching my stomach.

"He doesn't really tell you much."

"Yeah, that's an understatement," I say with a sigh, "But I guess it's just the age old complaint. A woman who doesn't think her man talks enough."

He smiles, "Listen, I wanted you to have a look at some crystals we brought back from an alien planet."

"Sure."

"Daniel," I pause, "I really hate to ask this, but do you know if Jack is still in contact with his ex-wife?"

Daniel squirms uncomfortably, "Sara? I don't think they've seen each other since he joined SG-1. He hasn't said anything about a visit but like I said…"

I nod, "He doesn't tell you much."

"Right," Daniel agrees.

**Sara**

I'm working on the old car and suddenly I look up and there is Jack standing in the driveway. A little ways away, the man always did like his distance.

"Hello, Sara," he says.

"Been there long?" I ask him.

"Yes," he says as if there is nothing odd about it.

"Could've said something," I say with a little laugh.

"I did," he says.

I sigh. Same old Jack, "Right…you did."

I turn back to start working on the car. Jack's awkward silences are a lot easier to deal with when you have something else to do than wait for him to talk. He walks over and looks at the car. Jack doesn't know anything about engines. I'm pretty sure about this, even though it's pretty hard to figure out what Jack does and does not know since he plays dumb so often.

"Something wrong?" he asks.

"I think it's the ignition…But you didn't come about the car." I know that what I did to Jack wasn't completely fair. He came back to find me gone and divorce papers waiting for him. He couldn't fight it, because he could barely move. But it wasn't fair for me either. That day Charlie died, I lost a husband as well as a son."

"No."

"So…what? You decided you'd just…show up? Waltz back into my life? Is that it?" I prompt. He's acting so strange. So distant. But he's moving and he's not crying or fingering a gun, so he's doing a hell of a lot better than the last time I saw him.

"Yes," I shake my head and sigh, but he knows me well enough to know they don't mean anything. He probably also knows I love him enough that I never could have served the divorce papers if I'd had to do it in person.

"I need to find Charlie. Is he here?" Jack asks.

What the hell? Has he gone nuts? "Charlie?"

Jack walks up to me and grabs me by the arms; he looks me right in the eye. All things Avoidance O'Neill never does, "I need Charlie. That's his bicycle, isn't it?"

"I kept some of his things," I say confused. I kept all the things that fit in my car during four tear-stained hour and a half drives to my Dad's house that I made in a hurry when he went on that mission. I didn't know when and if he was coming home.

"Yes. I know," he says in that same strange, distant voice. Of course he knew, the house must have been almost empty when he came back to it. What I did wasn't right, but it was all I could do.

"Jack, what are you doing? You're scaring me."

"It's important, Sara," he says beginning to look past me, "Charlie?" I scream out.

"Don't! Let go of me." I say breaking out of his grasp, "What the hell is wrong with you? Is this your idea of a joke? Just get away from me," I say trying to run into the house.

"Sara!" he calls after me.

I know Dad has let Jack go up to Charlie's room. I can't help but have a flash of the worst memory of my life. One I've been trying to get rid of for a year and a half. And all it takes is one look at my ex-husband to bring it back. What the hell would I have done if I'd stayed with him?

The flash back is too clear, too crisp. "Oh, look what came home from school today," I say remembering the look and feel of a school picture.

"Ah…Is Charlie about ready?" Jack had asked.

"Yeah, he was running around here a few minutes ago…" The awful sound of a shot echoes through the room. I can still feel the sink in my stomach and my own scream echoing in my ear, "Charlie!"

I walk past Charlie's room, because I want to see what Jack is doing up there. He has Charlie's blankie, the one he declared he was too old for when he turned six. But he kept it and I'm pretty sure he still used it sometimes. Jack has the blanket in his arms and he's rocking back and forth on the bed. I've never see the man so in touch with his emotions.

Jack is walking down the stairs and a I'm pretty sure he intends to just walk out of the house, but I stop him with a question, "We haven't talked about Charlie since he died. Why now? What were you doing up there?"

"Do you remember how much fun Charlie used to have playing that…game?" he asks.

"Baseball?" did he get a head injury or something? If so why didn't the Air Force stop him? They're pretty good about making sure people don't go home until they are ready. At least physically ready, Jack came home to me plenty of times when he wasn't emotionally ready. Maybe that's the problem; maybe this is an emotional problem.

"Baseball. He loved that game," Jack repeats.

"He loved playing…with you," he looks down and looks like he's about to leave.

"Jack?" I ask.

"I have to get back to the Stargate."

"Back to what?" I ask.

"Stargate. It's…a…big…round…metal…object…A ring…of energy…"

Ah, one of those stories. Charlie called them fairy tales. I called them bullshit Jack tells me instead of whatever the Air Force told him to. He only uses it when he's not allowed to tell me the truth, but I still hate being lied to, "You always could spin a line of bull to avoid talking to me."

He comes into the room and sits down on a footstool so he can be near me. Jack loves to be near people, to touch people, to hug and hold and comfort and be comforted. He needs it. And he doesn't get it from friends, because he's the kind of tough guy who doesn't hug his friends. And he doesn't get it from family, because there really isn't family to speak of, which is why he needs the hugs. And I wonder where he's gotten it from in the past year and I feel so guilty. So guilty, because I decided to take care of myself.

"What's wrong?" he asks looking at me with that protective concern I've missed so much since we split up.

"I've been crying, that's what's wrong. What's with you? Upstairs…I've never seen you like that before. For a second, I thought you were going to cry. Where's all that O'Neill military bravado?"

He looks confused, "I don't think I have it." He gets a grin from me like he always did. And he returns the grin with that strange, childlike Jack grin that I haven't seen since Charlie died. Suddenly he turns.

"What?" I ask.

"Smoke?" he asks.

"Oh, my God! Mike left a casserole in for me…" I say running for the kitchen. Jack follows me.

**Sam**

We are working on these really fascinating crystals that were blown apart by the Goa'uld. We know this because of a slightly (completely) illegal staff weapon test we tricked Teal'c into helping us with in the gate room. Daniel is a good partner in crime and Teal'c is a really gullible alien.

"Whoa!" Daniel suddenly jumps away from the crystals, startled, "Captain Doctor! Teal'c!"

Teal'c and I run toward the crystals and he hides a shoulder behind me as if he expects the pregnant lady to protect him, "Yeah?" I ask.

He bounces up and down flailing his arms and eyebrows and looking terrified, "…Uh…That…was…me. It was me…"

Teal'c makes a face that implies he thinks Daniel is nuts. That's right; I can read Jaffa facial expressions now. Only took three months since meeting Teal'c.

"Are you okay?" I ask Daniel.

"Just…" he says extending his hand toward the crystals, "Look…"

I step forward and get my face about eight inches from the blue crystal. I'm beginning to agree with Teal'c; Daniel must have gone nuts, because all I see is, "My reflection…so?"

"Closer…" Daniel prompts hiding himself behind Teal'c.

The crystals suddenly start to grow. That sentence isn't impressive enough, because all crystals grow. What I mean to say is the crystals suddenly start to grow really, really, fast. "Holy Hannah!" I say as I jump back putting my shoulder behind Daniel's for protection. The crystals form into my face. My face with a whole bunch of spikes around them and a sort of Han's Christian Anderson's ice princess quality to them, but it's definitely me. It speaks in a bunch of voices,

"Help us."

"Oh my God," I say as the crystals return to their normal shape.

**Jack**

Oy the headache. Where am I? It's sandy. Right, we were on a mission. Daniel wanted to go look at the pretty, blue crystals. Thought it might mean there was a civilization. Gave me some ribbing that they'd make a nice ring. I so don't need pressure to propose to Sam right now! For crying out loud we still haven't been on our first date. It keeps getting postponed time and time again.

Focus Jack. I try the radio. Nothing. I haul my sorry ass out of the desert and do a search. They're gone. I'm really hoping they weren't captured by aliens or something while I was unconscious. I guess the only way I'm going to figure out what happened to them is to go through the gate. Good thing Daniel insisted on teaching me how to dial the gate. I probably should have been that insistent about teaching him how to shoot a gun.

But after Charlie, I haven't been too thrilled about the idea of teaching a kid how to use a gun and Daniel still seems like a kid to me. Even though he is a year older than Sam. But let's be honest, Sam is a little childlike as well. Of course, she already knows how to use a gun. I used to be childlike too.

**Sam**

The off world activation sirens go off and we run up to the gate room. It's been two months since anyone tried to dial us and every time someone's dialed earth it's been the Goa'uld.

"Where's the iris?" I ask in alarm.

"Someone used a remote," General Hammond says in that out-of-the-corner-of-the-mouth way he has when he's watching someone else very intently.

"Who? We're all here," Daniel says.

"Well, whoever it is has our codes," the General says, "Heads up people!" he says. His words cause a room full of people to raise their guns and point them at the wormhole. Jack flies through the wormhole in a spread eagle overly dramatic fashion. The wormhole dissolves behind him. He throws his arms up in the air and angrily shouts, "Hey, what're you guys doing leaving without me?"

No, they didn't leave without him. I just saw him, half an hour ago, wishing I hadn't screwed up his chances with his ex-wife. Who the hell is this?

He looks around the gate room at all the guns pointed at him. He seems a little offended that they don't appear to have recognized him just by the sound of his voice. He takes his sunglasses off and takes a few steps forward. His hand makes a big sweeping gesture over the room.

"What's with all the ordinance?"

"Who are you?" General Hammond asks.

Jack takes another tiny step forward, which brings him to the end of the ramp. He stops and squints up at General Hammond who is now an uncomfortable neck stretching distance from him.

"What do you mean, who am I?" he looks around and I can tell he's growing worried. Jack is almost as hard to read as Teal'c, but with Jack it's because he covers up every serious emotion with five fake ones, "What the heck's going on here?"

"Good question. Take him into custody," General Hammond commands. Two Airmen obey and they drag him out of the room. I'm alarmed at this, I don't want to see them treating Jack this way, but I don't actually know that man is Jack, do I?

**Jack**

I know they are watching me through the camera. I throw up my hands, "Come on, get me out of here!" I plead. There is no response, "Tell you what, let me put it nicely… "I grab a chair so I can yell directly in their faces, "Get me the _hell_ out of here!" I climb down from the chair and grab a blanket, which I fling at the camera.

**Sara**

I'm eating a picnic lunch with Jack O'Neill. He's different somehow, more in touch with his emotions, but in so many ways it is the exact same Jack O'Neill I married. He isn't saying a word about what he is really thinking.

"I'm waiting for you to say 'I'm sorry'…or…'I want to get back together' or just…whatever's on your mind, anything, just talk to me," I prompt looking at him.

"The first time we were together…is this where we came?" I can't for the life of me figure out what is wrong with him, but I do know that something is, "You're angry," he asks sounding so unsure of himself. Far more unsure of himself than he ever did in the time that we were married.

"Angry…at you? No, I'm not angry."

"Good," he pauses for a long time and I search my mind to come up with a way to get him talking again, "You were."

"When?" I ask quickly.

"When Charlie died. That's why you left."

I turn from him furious. "You son of a bitch. You thought I left, because I was mad at you? You're trying to tell me it's my fault?"

"No," he says. You never could argue with Jack. It was like arguing with a brick wall. He never had any reaction to anything you said, no matter how inflammatory. He was unflappable, emotionless. Emotionless until our son died and then he had every emotion in the world around his neck like an anchor drowning him in the sea of despair.

"Why didn't you talk to me? Why didn't you ask?"

"I should have…but I didn't. So, you were angry?" he asks again.

"No," that's what he needs to hear, "Yes," the honest answer slips out when he looks at me expectantly. "What did you expect?" I say, my voice breaking, "It happened in our house. It was your gun," I stop myself, because if I keep talking I am going to lose Jack again, "I know you blamed yourself. But if you just opened up for once and let me through that armor of yours…We could have helped each other. I needed you."

"I know," he says sympathetically.

"You know? And you can say it? Just like that? After all this time?"

"I'm sorry it took so long. It should've been said sooner."

"Is that what you came to tell me?"

"There's no way to make you understand what I came here to do. You couldn't understand."

"Try me."

"I thought if I could bring Charlie back through the Stargate…"

Understanding Sara is gone, I am angry once again, "Just shut up about that, would you! Charlie is gone, Jack. And we should be talking about us and what happened and not…"

He stands up from the picnic table and takes a couple of steps forward. He bends over like his stomach is hurting him. All of a sudden tiny bolts of blue lightning jolt across his body. He's writhing on the ground like someone who is having a seizure.

"Jack? My God," I say uncertain of what to do. Touching him seems pretty much out of the question, but I can't just stand here while Jack is in that much pain. "Jack? Jack? What is that? What's happened to you?" The lightning bolts stop moving across his body and I rush to his side. It looks like he's trying to talk, but no words are coming out. I put a hand on each side of his face, "We've got to get you to a hospital." I help him up with one hand holding his arm and the other hand across his back and we head to his car.

**Jack**

"The MRI was negative. The DNA screen matches what we have on file. Uh, physical examination of the body shows some trauma…otherwise he seems perfectly healthy." Doc Fraiser says. She and Hammond are talking about me like not here, or like I am a rat in a cage.

"Healthy doesn't cut it," General Hammond says.

"Well, the evidence says he's Colonel Jack O'Neill."

"Thank you, Doctor," I say with a wave of my hand. Janet gives me the briefest of looks, but Hammond continues on as if I don't even exist.

"Then how do you explain the other one?" he says.

"What other one?" I say quickly. I glance from one to the other of them, ok, now I'm getting nervous, "What?"

**Sam**

I'm nauseous as usual. Good sign Sam; it means you're less likely to lose the baby. Also means I'm less likely to eat. And more likely to barf all over everyone in the room including Jack before we've even had our first date. That's right, I am now NINE weeks along and have yet to have a date with the father of my baby. Jack is right; we will SO not be ready by the time the baby comes. But apparently now there are two Jacks, so that should help matters, I think with a sarcastic eye roll.

Whoever or whatever this energy form masquerading as Jack is, he's left the mountain and he's giving off radiation. If he continues to break down at the rate he has been breaking down at he could be giving off a lethal dose of radiation to everyone around him pretty soon.

I look at Jack. I have to tell him what I know about…his other self, "There is something else. I've been thinking about where it went. Sir," I still call him that on base, although at home it has transformed to Jack, "it was in your locker looking through your personal stuff. Pictures of your family…" I flinch a little at calling them that. They aren't really his family anymore. Broca said I was his family now, but that isn't quite true and I'm not quite sure I'm ready to take that much responsibility on right now. As soon as I say those words Jack jumps over to a phone and starts dialing frantically. "Come on, Sara, come on." I hear her answering machine from across the room.

**Teal'c**

Captain Carter, O'Neill, Daniel Jackson and I are endeavoring to capture an alien form of energy that is pretending to be O'Neill.

"Can we stop it?" Daniel asks.

"I don't know," Major Carter says.

General Hammond stops us in the hall and addresses O'Neill "We checked with the local police. No one's at your…ex-wife's house. One of the local hospitals admitted a J. O'Neill less than an hour ago," he eyes the staff weapon which I hold in my hand. The Tau'ri is mistrustful of this weapon, but I find it far more effective than their weapons, "Teal'c, you'll have to leave that here."

"I have seen your world. I will need it,' I inform him.

"I can't let you take your weapon, Teal'c," he says taking it from my hands, "You—all of you—will be operating in public so you can't do or say anything that reveals the existence of the SGC or the Stargate," he pulls a hat out of his pocket. It is much like the ones that O'Neill likes to wear. I recognize the inscription as being the place that O'Neill hails from and where Daniel Jackson received his education.

"Chicago. The windy city. Home of the Black Hawks, the Bulls and the White Sox," I say proud to demonstrate my knowledge of earth culture.

"Don't forget the Cubs," O'Neill reminds me.

**Jack**

We are at the hospital where my crystal duplicate apparently came. I give orders to the nurses and doctors. It's all about the command you use in your voice, "All right…keep moving, folks. Everybody out! I need everybody out of here now! Let's go!"

"Jack?" Sara says with her mouth hanging open and looking completely shocked.

"Sara! Are you all right?" I ask softly grabbing her by the shoulders and looking her in the eyes. She turns to look over my shoulder in shock. "It's me. This is me, baby," I whisper into her shoulder as I pull her into a hug.

"Jack," she says in that happy, but desperately sad voice that would get into the phone calls when I was deployed. I pull my head against hers as if to kiss her. But I stop myself, it wouldn't be right to kiss her anymore. I cup her face in both of my hands.

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. I want to hear all about it…but not now. Are you okay?" I ask again, because she really doesn't look or sound ok.

"Yeah," she says and then I have to leave her. Over my shoulder I see that Sam is the one ushering Sara to safety. I'm not sure how that happened, but I am pretty sure that it is way out of my comfort zone. I can't even figure out how Sam got cleared for this mission. I mean radiation has got to be bad for a baby, right? At least she's staying back in the safe part of the hospital, not heading into the radioactive part like me and my team.

I rush down the hallway following bright flashes of light. I see someone who really does look like me on the floor next to the bed. He looks like it's hard to breathe.

"It's all right," I assure him taking my gun and putting it on the floor, "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Please…stay back. I…do not want to…harm you…again. My energy…is…about to…" he says slowly and with a lot of effort. He flinches for a minute, before electricity sizzles around his body like a snake and throws me against a wall.

"You have come to destroy me," the alien version of me says.

"No. That's not true," I insist getting to my feet and walking toward the alien, "I know you weren't trying to kill me back on the planet," I kneel in front of him and talk softly. You catch more flies with honey and all that, "The Goa'ulds—the people who destroyed your race—they're our enemies too."

"I…understand…Thank you," he says with a wide-eyed child look.

"Why did you come here?" I ask.

"When my energy hurt you…I tried…to heal you. But I did not understand your…injury. So I looked in…to your mind. I saw the mind…of a warrior. I feared it, as I feared those who destroyed my race. I tried to make you well…before my mistake was discovered; before the others returned to…destroy me. I understand now. Your deepest pain was not the physical…injury I had caused. Your pain was from an empty place in your heart where Charlie once was. I thought if I could bring Charlie to you, it would make you well. I did not understand his death meant he could no longer exist as flesh and blood. Physical death…does not have the same meaning…to us," he says slowly and with effort.

"Are you dying now?" I ask not even completely understanding whether or not these things have death.

"Yes. I could not bring Charlie to you," he said apologetically.

"Charlie's gone," I say firmly, of this painfully sure.

"No…He's…in here," the alien says reaching out to touch my heart. But an inch before the hand reaches my heart it's not my hand (or the hand of the alien pretending to be me) it's Charlie's hand.

"Charlie?" I ask in shock. My son is dead. But after all, he wouldn't be the first one to come back to life.

"You cannot change what happened that day, just as I cannot change the day that the Goa'uld destroyed my world. I am showing you what of Charlie is still there…inside you," he talks like my son too. I can't take my eyes off of him; I could pretty much look at him forever.

"Jack," Daniel prompts. When I don't respond he says it a little louder, "Jack…."

"We have to go," says the thing which I am pretty sure is not my son.

"Is Sara O'Neill still here?" the kid asks with a smirk someone shouldn't use when thinking about their mother.

"Yes," I whisper. It feels like you should only whisper in the face of the dead come back to life. He smiles, this time more like a kid. More like my kid. He takes my hand and the two of us walk down the hall escorted by my entire team. The alien even bounces like Charlie used to.

"You guys go ahead," I say. The hospital entrance is empty except for a lone policeman and Sara. She is standing in front of the door looking like she's guarding us from leaving. She's wearing a skirt I used to love. And I know she put it on for him…who she thought was me. But I can't be jealous, because she thought he was me and I have Sam.

She is staring at the alien in shock. He gives her that puppy dog look that used to get Charlie cookies and snuggles and even, while our neighbors went on vacation, an actual puppy dog. And she doesn't know that look doesn't belong to our son. I saw the transformation and I'm having a hard time believing it.

"Sara," I say trying to think of a way to make all of this easy.

"Oh my God…" she says with a sharp intake of breath.

"It's not Charlie…" I say.

"Shh…" she says. The alien who looks like our son holds up his little hand. Sara has a bandage on her hand that I didn't notice before. She takes her bandaged hand and holds his tiny one. She can't stop looking at him any more than I could. Then the alien pulls his hand away.

"Sara…I have to get him back," I say and I know there aren't enough apologies in the world for this.

She nods, "To the Stargate?" she asks. And she really doesn't expect an answer. She was an Air Force wife, she knows one isn't coming.

"Yeah," I say simply.

I take her into my arms and press my cheek against hers.

"Whatever that is. The other guy…You know what he said?" I hope it wasn't anything I disagree with.

"I have a pretty fair idea." I whisper.

"We were pretty great together, weren't we?"

"We were the greatest."

I press my lips to her shoulder. I pull apart and rub my hand against her check. I take hold of the alien that isn't Charlie's hand and we walk away. I don't think she meant for me to hear the tiny whisper of, "Take care of yourself, Jack."

**Sam**

Jack is a really private person. And we (STILL!) haven't been on an actual date. But we're living together and I'm the closest thing to family he has. So I feel like I have a right to ask.

"Jack."

He looks over at me annoyed and I know that I've probably picked the wrong time to ask him this question. It's in the middle of a hockey game. But I'm pretty sure he has some super amazing sports package or lots of hockey tapes (some people in the crowd do have hairdos that look suspiciously eighties) or something because anytime we're in the house we seem to be in the middle of a hockey game.

"Are you ok?" I ask. He looks down at himself as if he's checking for some type of blunt force trauma or something.

"Yeah," he says with a shrug.

"I mean about today," I clarify.

"Hey, you said those radiation levels were safe!" he exclaims.

"I don't mean physically," I say.

"Yeah fine," he says and he turns up the volume.

"Jack, Charlie…"

He cuts me off curtly, "It wasn't Charlie."

"I know that," I say, "but…it had to bring up stuff about Charlie."

He nods.

"Jack I think we should talk about this."

He flips the TV off. "My son died, Carter, what do you want from me?" The voice is cool and accusatory. I'm doing this all wrong.

"Jack," I say getting up from my chair and reaching for his hand. He pulls it away. We sit there in silence long enough that I find myself longing for the stupid hockey game.

"Jack, I'm sorry. You don't have to talk about it. You shouldn't have to talk about it, or deal with it. But it happened and I'd much rather you deal with it than this little one," I say putting my hand over my stomach.

His face goes soft. "Com'ere," he says. I sit down carefully at the edge of the couch. His back is leaning on a pillow against the wall. His legs are sprawled out in front of him. He reaches out his arms. I lean back against him and he readjusts until we are in a snuggle. He breathes in a sniff of my hair and rubs my arms like I'm cold, or haven't been touched enough or something.

"I'm never going to be good at talking about stuff like this," he says.

"That's ok; I just want to…help you…" I mutter.

"I'm going to love that kid," he says. I notice he can talk much easier when I'm facing away from him. I'll have to remember this. Use it.

"I know, I just don't want this baby to…cause you pain."

I can feel his head pull away in surprise, "Never."

"Sara," I say.

"We're divorced."

"I know."

"I wouldn't get back together with her, even if you weren't with me. She hurt me."

I nod, knocking my head against his chin.

"She knows about Broca?" I ask.

"I think so," he mutters.

"You'd better make sure."

"You going to be mad if we go out to lunch?"

"I think it would be good."

He holds me tighter and it suddenly occurs to me that he is desperate for human contact. I thought he was doing it for me. I stretch my legs against his so we are matched up inch for inch.

"Good talk," I whisper.

He laughs.

"You can go back to your taped hockey game now." He half sits up to look at me in surprise. "Genius, remember," I say.

"I won't forget again, Sam, never again."

**Jack**

Sara sits down across from me at the restaurant. She fiddles with the menu, but we both know what she's going to order. Raspberry lemonade, chicken spinach salad and a brownie if I pretend I'll share it with her.

"Thanks for coming," I say.

"Of course, Jack," she says surprised.

Now what do I say? Break right in with the I'm having a kid thing? Tell her I'm a little pissed that she left when I was broken? Tell her I still love her? I miss her? Talk about the weather?

"How have you been?" she asks.

"I've been good."

"Have you?" she asks. I forgot Sara actually means it when she asks that question.

"I've been better."

"I worried about you." Yeah, you left when I wanted to kill myself.

"I really am better."

"I'm glad," she nods.

"How are you Sara?"

"Good," and I look in her eyes. She isn't being completely honest, but she's doing well enough that this isn't going to destroy her.

"You met Sam?" Out of the blue, apparently that's how I'm going to do this.

"Sam?" she asks.

"Major Carter, at the hospital?" I prompt.

"Was he the big black one or the one with the glasses?"

"Ah…no…actually Sam is a woman."

"The blond," she nods.

"Yeah…we're…"

"Dating?" she asks.

This is going to be harder than I thought. How do I form those words?

"It's ok, Jack, I've dated since the divorce too."

"Who have you?" knee jerk reaction. I pull it back, "Sorry," I say softly.

She laughs, "That's ok."

"But what I actually wanted to say is that we're having a baby."

There is deep pain behind her eyes.

"I'm sorry…it wasn't planned."

"Don't apologize for your kid, Jack," she says coolly.

"I just mean…I know this can't be easy for you."

"No, my ex-husband telling me he ACCIDENTLY knocked up someone when we tried to give Charlie a sibling for nine years."

I just look down.

"I'm sorry," she says.

The waitress comes to take our order and I almost order for her, but she says, "Cheeseburger."

I don't even know her anymore.

"Jack, you're an amazing father," she murmurs as the waitress leaves.

"You don't have to do that."

"What?"

"Lie."

"I'm not lying Jack…"

"If it wasn't for me he'd still be alive."

She sits back in the booth and looks at me for a long time, "I've thought of everything I could have done differently to save Charlie. Maybe if I'd not pushed for the 'no toy guns' rule or not let him watch that spy show or took him to the park right after school. Maybe if I'd checked on…"

I cut her off, "Yes, Sara, that is normal grieving. The difference with me is it's real. I am the real cause of our son's death."

She's shaking her head from the moment that I start talking, "No, Jack," she says, eyes wet.

"Sara…don't."

"I'm being honest here."

"You left me because I killed our son."

"No," she shakes her head. And she's not lying. I know when Sara's lying. "Jack, I left, because…" the waitress chooses this minute to return with our drinks.

She takes a long sip before she finishes her sentence. "I left because I wasn't going to hold you in my arms as you died. I did that with Charlie. Once is enough."

What did I do to her?

"I'm…sorry," I whisper.

"I'm glad you're alright."

"If I wasn't…" I have to know. I'm not leaving Sam for her. Not leaving my kid for her. But I have to know, because I'm not over Sara.

She shakes her head, "When I look at you…"

"Me too," I say.

"So what's Sam like?"

"Really, you want to talk about my girlfriend?" I ask.

"Not really," she admits.

Where is that waitress when you need her?


	9. First Date

**Sam**

Jack pauses the hockey game. He's still watching hockey games from the eighties EVERY night, even though I informed him that I knew they were old games. I was desperately trying to get his attention with sighs, yawns, etc. a while ago, but I have that up five minutes ago, so I'm not sure what that's about.

"Yes, Samantha?" he asks pointedly.

"It's just…we're watching hockey again?"

"I'm watching hockey, you're reading about all the weird things your body is going to be doing in the near future."

"Ok, carry on," I say.

"You want me to do something else?"

"It's fine Jack."

"You want me to read the books?"

"You want to read the books?"

"I've done this."

"Right."

"But if you want me to read the books…"

"No, just watch your decade old hockey game you've seen a million times."

"I've never seen this."

"What?" I ask looking at them.

He turns the paused game off and turns to me, "I taped these after Charlie was born. I didn't have time to watch the games…whenever I wasn't on a mission I was with him. I wished I had more time with him. But what I had I didn't waste on hockey. I always thought I'd watch them when Charlie got older. But older just go older and older. After Charlie died I didn't want to watch them, even though I had the time. I wanted Charlie," I come sit down next to him on the couch, leaning against him. He's always desperate for physical contact, and this gives it to him. It also means that I have to look away from him, which helps him open up. "It was only after this new baby came into the picture that I started watching those tapes. I figured…I'm not going to be watching hockey again for awhile."

I snuggle close against him. "I should sell my motorcycle," I whisper. He's a decade behind in hockey? What the hell have I gotten myself into? I can't do this. Eighteen years without fun?

I feel his laugh through his chest, and into my ear. All sound is vibrations, but it's a lot more personal when there is no air in between. "You're not selling your Indian."

"Why not?" I ask. I feel like he somehow insulted my motherhood, and did it in a way I don't even understand.

"Because healthy people need a hobby. They need a way to release the stress, and you would become a whole lot less interesting without your 'bike. I didn't stop watching hockey because I had to, but because I really wanted to."

I nuzzle in a little deeper and admit to him my deepest fear. Mostly because I don't have anyone else to admit it to.

"What if I don't want to give it up? What if…I can't do this?"

"You're going to be a great mother," he assures me rubbing my arm.

"How do you know?"

He takes the book out of my hand, "because since the moment you've found out your pregnant you have done nothing but read about it. Anyone who tries that hard…you're way ahead of the curve Sam."

I reach around him.

"So you want me to read this?" he asks still waving the book.

"No, the hockey thing wasn't about that," I say, "and I want you to watch hockey now that I know it's all sweet."

He laughs at me, the vibration going right to my ear drum. "What did you want me to do before you found out I was 'sweet'?"

"Nothing, Jack, I just…wanted to go out, but…"

"Out?" he says like I'm speaking a foreign language.

I giggle, as I pull away enough to look at him "Yes Jack, out, like a date, you've heard of it?"

"I just figured we skipped to the good part."

"The good part?" He thinks that watching hockey is the good part? Well, the cuddling on the couch is definitely nice, but this is what he wants out of life?

"Yeah, the being together, the merging lives, being real, but if you want to go out we'll go out."

"Careful Jack," I warn, "your being sweet again."

"Up, up," he says, "let's go."

"I didn't mean we had to go now. We've already had dinner."

"Movie?"

"I want something where we can talk."

"Ah, my favorite," he says, "dessert then? No way a pregnant woman could say no to dessert."

"Ice cream sounds great," I tell him. Finally! A first date.

He takes me to a cutesie place. A place way cutesier then I would have pictured Jack knowing about. It's got pink hearts on the backs of the chairs. I'm trying really hard not to giggle as I walk into the place. He looks at me, "Too fofoey?"

"As is that word," I tell him.

"Right, but they have the best ice cream here, and we can eat it in the truck if this place is too girly for you."

"I can do girly," I say.

The ice cream is way more amazing that I thought. Jack offers me his ice cream. I've always thought couples who do that are incredibly weird, and it is sort of weird, because we're not sharing spit in the traditional way, so it's weird to do it in the cutsie way. But it's nice too. I've never shared licks of someone's ice cream before. I haven't dated the kind of guy that's comfortable with that sort of thing.

I'm really enjoying this fruit combination of ice cream I put together with gummy bear toppings (I am so blaming the kid for that. I haven't had gummy bears since I was a little kid.) Then suddenly someone walks by with a black licorice ice cream, and I'm in the bathroom.

I can't bring myself to come it. I have been waiting for a first date for a long time, and ten minutes in I barf.

"Sam…" I hear an uncertain voice at the door, "are you ok in there?"

"Yeah, I'll be out in a minute," I say. But I don't make any motion toward the door, and Jack comes in.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

I laugh.

"Right, I mean…it seems like there is something else wrong."

"This is not how this is supposed to go."

He smiles, "You want to head home, brush your teeth, and try again tomorrow, and call that our first date."

"You just want to watch some hockey," I tease.

"Well, you did stop me right in the middle of a game," he says with a smile, "Try again tomorrow?" he asks.

"Yeah…maybe something not food related?"

"I'd teach you to play hockey," I start to interrupt him, but he adds, "you can't do that for a couple more months."

"You hike?" I ask.

"Sounds like a good date. Talking, no food, pregnancy approved."

"I'm sorry I'm so picky."

"I don't mind," he says giving my vomit mouth a quick pick.


	10. Christmas

Bec-I love your reviews to my stories. Thanks. Another Daniel and Sha're story? Not quite, but a Daniel Vala one should be next up. Tried to write it before this one demanded I give it existence. First chapter is written.

**Jack**

The really nice thing about mission schedules is that you get random days off. It's six days after Thanksgiving and I put the day to good use. I went and got a huge Christmas tree. I bought new lights, and strung them all over the house. I went into Hallmark (something a man should never have to do) and bought a "babies first Christmas" ornamented. I laid out the boxes of my Christmas stuff, and failed in my search for Sam's Christmas stuff. I didn't decorate the tree though, that felt like something we should do together.

It's not like we're really a family yet, but we're getting there.

Sam comes home, and her face is light up. "Jack," she says.

"Well, I figured it was our first Christmas…" Suddenly her face falls.

"I should have talked about this before…" she stammers.

"You have plans for Christmas. It's ok," I start.

"No…Jack, I mean it wouldn't just be us for Christmas. I always go to Mark's. I called him the other day to make sure it was ok for me to bring you…but I told them I hadn't asked you yet."

"You sure you want me to come?"

She smiles,"Yes Jack."

"And how much does Mark know?" I ask cautiously.

"I told him a lot about you. I didn't tell them about the baby yet," she says sitting down. "I didn't know whether that would be better in person, or if I'm going to ruin Christmas."

I sit down next to her, pulling her against me. "We could let Brocca tell him next Christmas."

"No way is this kid going to be talking next Christmas," I say. She's finally given up trying to cure me of calling the baby 'Brocca'.

"I don't know Carter, it is yours."

"Careful, or you'll be reading child development books instead of watching decade old hockey."

"I thought tonight, we could decorate the tree, drink some coca…"

"And watch really cheesy romantic Christmas shows?"

I raise an eyebrow. "Ok."

"And I'm going to tell Mark tomorrow."

"I made super," I offer.

"I hope you mean you ordered super," she says cautiously.

"Relax, I used my mom's recipe."

"Thank you for trying," she says leaning forward to give me a kiss.

"What do you mean trying. I succeeded," I ask.

**Mark**

"Hey, Mark," Sam says on the phone. My little sister, I love her with all of my heart. She's amazing at almost everything. But her choice in men…awful. And she has another one. After Jonas she said she was going to stay away from guys for awhile, focus on work. Yet, she's never missed a Christmas brining some loser home.

"Hey Sam, so what'd he say about Christmas?"

"He'd love to come."

"Good, we'll be excited to see the two of you."

"Well, there are sort of three of us."

"What?"

"I'm three months pregnant," she says. I don't know what to say. She's three months pregnant. She was engaged less than a year ago!

"Are you…happy?" I ask, I can't tell from her voice how she actually feels about it.

"I'm happy…terrified, but happy."

"And this guy?"

"Jack, yeah, he's happy too. A little conflicted…he lost his son a year and a half ago in an accident."

"That's awful," I say, "You and Jack…how serious were you before surprise baby?"

She takes a really deep breath, "We weren't very serious. But we are now. We're…trying to make this relationship work. We're actually living together. But…either way we'll be there for the kid."

"It sounds like you're doing alright. What about work?"

"I'm doing more science stuff for awhile."

"Do you hate it? Or…I mean you like both parts of your job right?"

"I do…I miss the mission part of my job. So much. But I'm not even sure…if I'm going to be going back."

"Why wouldn't you be going back?" I say. What is she giving up for this guy?

"I just…Mark when we lost Mom…"

He cuts me off, "What could possibly be that dangerous? We're not at war."

"We haven't technically been at war since the second world war, Mark. You don't need war to have a battle."

"How dangerous is your job, Sam?" I ask. I guess I know that her job is dangerous. I just didn't think it was that dangerous.

She takes a deep breath, "This sounds like it's heading toward a fight, and I really don't want to fight. I…I can't fight right now Mark. All my energy is going toward being ready for this kid in six months."

"Sorry," he says quietly, "So tell me more about this guy."

**Sam**

I'm trying to think of what I can say about Jack. Something I can say that isn't going to make Mark hate him. I can't talk about Jack's job…even though that is a really big part of who Jack is, because Mark hates the Air Force. I can't talk about Jack's son, or his ex-wife, because it would feel like breaking confidence. Besides, I don't actually know that much about either of them. And you take all that out of Jack, and you're really only left with the Simpson's, hockey, Mary Steemburgen, and the color perigo. And none of those things are Jack. They are just the person Jack has created so no one looks to close and actually sees him.

"He's complicated. He pretends to be stupid, but he's not. He strong, one of the few guys who can actually beat me at arm wrestling. It's only, because he knows the physics behind it though. That's how I win against guys with more upper body strength, it's the physics. But he knows the physics, because he's smarter than he appears. Also beat me in a drinking contest, which is rare. That was obviously pre baby," I say with a chuckle.

Mark doesn't appear to think it's funny. "Anyway," I stumble on, "He's practically psychic. I mean he predicts and fills me needs so well. Probably since he had a pregnant wife before. I don't know. I'm clueless about the whole thing. But he is ready for every problem. I mean whether it's ice cream, or broccoli, or hugs, or reassurance that the baby is going to be fine. No matter what I need it's like he's handing it to me before I ask."

And I start pacing, because Mark still isn't responding to anything I say. And as I start pacing, I see Jack standing at the door. He gives me a weak smile.

"Jack," I say. I'm not sure if I hate the idea he overheard me, or if I'm glad, because I'm not the kind of person that says those things to the person that needs to hear them. And he isn't the kind of person that listens.

"He's there?" Mark asks.

"Yeah, he sort of forgot to announce his presence," I tease.

"Sorry, I'll get out of your way, Carter," he says softly.

"No, Jack, come say hi to my brother," I say holding out the phone. It occurs to me that might be bad plan. Neither of them are particularly chatty, and a silent phone conversation might not be the best way to start a relationship.

Jack raises his eyebrows. I hold the phone back to my ear and say to Mark, "You want to say hi, to my…" ok, so we've never really defined our relationship, bad time to discover it "Jack."

"I'm a belonging, and I?" Jack asks playfully.

"Yep, I own you," I say to him. Then I say to Mark, "So here's Jack."

Jack takes the phone, and pauses a second, before he puts it to his ear. "How is it going?"

He pauses.

"Yeah, Air Force. You?"

More pause.

"Yeah…were Sam used to work anyway. Yeah. Deep space radar telemetry."

He flinches, "You pick up on stuff just like your dad."

I feel my eyes go wide in horror. He looks at me and realizes he's messed up. He wasn't supposed to talk to Dad about Mark, and he wasn't supposed to talk to Mark about Dad.

"Sorry," he mutters, and I'm not sure if he's talking to me or Mark.

"Yeah," he says with a smile which lets me know that they switched subjects, "yeah, I can't wait to meet me kid."

I put my arm around his shoulder. He reaches a hand around my waist. "Yeah, your sister is pretty amazing," he says. Wow, there making nice? I mean obviously for me, but this is going well.

Jack's face falls, and he lets go of me. "I wouldn't…use that word."

"What's wrong?" I ask.

He takes a step away from me, and I nod my head. I walk into the kitchen, and start making myself some herbal tea. I gave up on the decaf coffee. It just made me really, really, want real coffee. Not that I actually like herbal tea. I sort of hate it. But it's better than pretend coffee.

"Hey," Jack says a few minutes later. He hands me my phone. "You ok?"

"Yeah, you?"he says looking guilty.

"You don't have to tell me what happened in that phone conversation, Jack, calm down."

"Sam…he asked me if I was in love with you. I can't say that…yet," he says.

I laugh in relief, "Don't sweat that Jack. I'm not ready to say that either. Don't let Mark bully you. We've just come out of relationships. We'll worry about it later."

He reaches out and puts a hand on my still flat belly, "I love this one."

I put my hand over his, "me too. And that's a start right?"

**Jack**

There is a boy out in the front yard of Sam's brother's place. I didn't think it would bother me, but it's eating me up inside. He reminds me of Charlie for no other reason than that he's a little boy.

"You ok?" Sam asks.

I nod.

"He's way less scary than my father, more polite too."

I give her a nod, and the part of a smile I can manage.

"Hey, it's going to be fine."

"I know," I whisper.

Then she notices where my eyes are. "Charlie?" she asks concerned.

"I'm going to be ok," I assure her. But I can practically see into her brain, and the wheels are spinning. She's worried I'm never going to be able to look at a baby without thinking about Charlie.

And frankly, so am I.

What would that mean for our kid?

The taxi stops, and we get out. "Aunnie Sammie!" the kid exclaims throwing his hands up. She catches the kid mid run, and spins him around. "Hey, there Paul how you doing?"

"'dis your new Jonas?" the kid asks giving me a suspicious look.

"I'm Jack," I say, because I don't want Sam to have to try to answer to that question. "Do you like Air Plane rides?"

"You'll take me in a plane?" he asks. Right, still well within the literal stage.

"Maybe someday. Today I was just thinking about turning you into a plane," I say holding out my arms. He climbs from Sam's arms to my arms. I hoist him up with one of my arms under his belly, and the other under his legs. "Put out your arms," I instruct like that's actually essential to the experience instead of pure aesthetics. Then I throw in the plane sounds and we take off. He immediately bursts into giggles. After a few seconds my arms are already aching. I realize I've aged a lot in the few years since Charlie was this little. I hope I'll still be fit when my kid gets this big. I'm getting old.

"And how is little Lizzie?" I hear Sam asking. Right the baby. I look over at her on the forward spin. The kid is almost old enough that you can't call her a baby.

Sam picks her up, "hey there big girl. It's your Auntie Sam."

The kid buries her head in Sam's shoulder. Or whipped her bugers on Sam, it's hard to tell sometimes with the little kids.

"Hey sweetie," I say giving the little girl a pat on the head.

"More a'pane Uncle Jack," Paul protests.

"Ok, little man, ok."

**Mark**

I watch Sam and her new guy play with the kids for awhile before I go over and introduce myself.

"Mark," I say with the head nod.

He uses my son's head to shake my hand which make Paul giggle.

"You're good with kids," I tell him.

"I'd better be," he says, and the guy looks worried. I may not be a big fan of the guy who knocked up my little sister, but a lot of guys wouldn't still be around. And it really looks like he would be a good father.

"Where is Rachel?" Sam asks.

"She's working late today," he says, "she'll be home in an hour or two.

"When did she go back to work?" Sam asks.

"When baby girl turned one," I say smiling at my daughter who pulls her head back and looks at me when she hears the words 'baby girl' which I'm pretty sure is she's mistaken from her name. "You staying home with yours?" I hope I'm not opening a can of worms. Gender issues have always been a little touchy with my little sister, and much more so since she had that nightmare of an engagement with Jonas.

"For a month or so," she says.

This guy raises a brow at her and says, "Really? And then you're going back to SG-1?"

"Jack," she says shaking her head.

"Sam, you deserve to be on the front line team," he insists. She hands my daughter back to me. He takes the cue, and sets my son down. Paul runs off to play.

"I'm going to deal with enough rumors about sleeping my way to the top. I don't need them to actually be true," she hisses.

He laughs. Oh, he is so going to die, "That's what you're worried about? Because the exact opposite is true. Sam where would you be if we'd never slept together?"

She smiles, "SG-1."

"Right, so I'd just be restoring you to your rightful place."

"But you can't do that, you shouldn't be punished for this."

"Getting to be with you, and getting to have a little one are not punishment, Sam," he says.

"But your job..."

"It's less important to me than it is to you," he says swiping some hair out of her face, "sorry for having that conversation in front of you, Mark," he says to me, "We're right on the edge of classified here."

"It's alright," I say. I'm trying to figure out if they broke any rules with their relationship, but I can't quite get that from the context.

**Sam**

Rachel and I always go shopping when I come to visit. It's not that San Diego has a particularly wonderful shopping scene, but I never get to do girly stuff. And neither does Rachel, at least not without octopus hands reaching out of the cart.

And then Jack decides to come along. He didn't quite get the concept of "girl's night" and I couldn't really tell him not to come, because I've been trying to get him to take me out more. And this is out of the house. So I'll pretend to be happy, and hope I actually will be.

Half an hour later, I take a quick detour by electronics before meeting Rachel by shoes. What I didn't know is that between electronics and shoes is the baby department. I suddenly find myself mesmerized by the most adorable new-born dress. I hear footsteps stop behind me, and figure it's Rachel come to retrieve me.

"I know it's way too early to start buying baby clothes, but I'm not sure I can resist."

"Why would you?" Jack's voice says, and I turn with a start. I try to hide the dress behind me, and that causes him to laugh. "It's cute."

"There is only a fifty percent chance our baby will get to wear it," I defend. And that's not even factoring in the odds that I will lose the baby.

He shrugs, "Hey, if it's a boy we can tell him he wore it when he was little. That'd be fun."

"Even better we could put it on him, and take a picture or two," I say.

"That's going a little far," he says frowning.

"You're not comfortable with your son wearing a dress?" I ask.

"No, maybe if it's a boy we'll have to save that for the next one," he says playfully. My face must have fallen, because he quickly says, "what's wrong?"

"I just…Jack, I don't know if there is going to be a next one…" I stammer. This isn't fair to him. He probably wanted a big family, "Almost a year away from the Stargate, per kid…"

He looks into the distance for a second, and then back at me, "Sam, there is a lot of time between now and eternity, and there is more than one way to have a kid. Now we're buying that frilly little dress even if we're never going to have a chance to use it. If nothing else you can hang it on the wall."

"Because that's not weird," I say.

"We're getting it Carter, no more arguments," he says snapping the dress out of my hands.

**Jack**

I debated getting Carter a ring for Christmas. I feel like I should offer. But if I offered I know I'd be hoping she'd turn me down, and that's no way to start a marriage. I know an engagement would make her brother's Christmas. Mark has been pushy, and nosey. I like Rachel though.

But I didn't get her a ring for Christmas. But I wanted to get her something to show her that I'm serious about this whole thing. So I did get her jewelry. Actually jewelry that came in a ring shaped box. But I took it out, and put it in another one. We really don't need any misunderstandings with this one.

I put it in a toaster box. Just because I happened to have a toaster box. That by the way, is Sam's fault. She thought she could take pieces from my toaster and her toaster and put them together to make a super Frankenstein toaster which would end world hunger or cook her toast in half the time or something. I guess the cooking toast in half the time is sort of a big deal since she's still got horrible morning sickness and toast makes up a large portion of her diet.

Anyway, Sam isn't as good at engineering as she thinks she is. Even though she is pretty darn good. So we ended up with two broken toasters, and me making a 5:45 am run for a toaster before I left on a mission.

Stupid pregnancy nausea.

Anyway, back to the current contents of the toaster box which are not an expensive quick cooking toaster, but in fact a necklace. It's silver, because the rare times when Sam wears jewelry it's always silver. The chain is thin, but strong, just like Sam. The pendent has a mom's arms wrapped around a tiny baby all swaddled up, with a row of little diamonds on the inside. The arms form a heart.

When Sam opens it up she's almost crying as she looks at it. I'm hoping this is just the pregnancy hormones, otherwise I'm going to avoid giving her jewelry in the future, jesh.

"Jack, you didn't have to…" she says.

"I know Sam, just like we didn't have to buy the baby clothes yesterday. But we did it for the same reason," I tell her and her eyes go huge with surprise. Yeah, I hope that works, because that's as close as she's going to get to a declaration of love for awhile. I help her put it on, and her hand reaches to grab mine when I'm done. Our hands hover there for awhile by her shoulder.

"Aunie Sam, you're so spark'ly," Paul says crawling onto her lab, and turning his chubby hand on her necklace.

"And you're so fuzzy," she says rubbing the boy's footy pajamas. God, I love snuggling a kid in footy pajamas. That should be our next purchase for this kid. That one would at least be gender non-specific.

I'm pretty sure Sam wants a girl. And it's not just because of the tiny girly dress either. When we're not calling our kid "baby" or "Broca" she's calling it "her" and "she". Plus she's finished all the pregnancy books (I swear it's been one a night) and started on a naming book. I glanced at it the other day, and noticed all the highlighted ones were girl names.

Not going to lie, I'd rather have a daughter too. Not that I wouldn't love a son, but a boy is going to remind me more of Charlie. Of course, if I have a girl I'm still going to play catch with her, and build model airplanes. But she'll be wearing one of those fluffy dresses as she does it, so it will be different.

Sam smiles and hands me my present. I open it up. Ok, maybe I was wrong about Sam wanting a girl.

"So that dress wasn't the first baby outfit you bought?" I tease holding up a tiny Colorado Avalanche jersey.

"Well, we wouldn't want the baby to stick out," she says pointing to the box. Another one? I pick it up. It's exactly like the baby's except Jack size, and one Sam size too. And under those there I see an envelope. I pick it up and look inside.

"Season tickets?" I ask.

"So you don't have to tape the hockey games," she smiles at me.

"I didn't have to tape them," I say.

"I know, you wanted too. But I thought if you took your reason for taping them with you…" she says holding up the baby sized jersey.

"My reason**s**," I say giving her a kiss.

She pulls away from the kiss to say, "well…I was hoping you'd choose me as your date," before returning that kiss. She has this way of smiling into a kiss so your lips barely make contact, but you feel more connected. I like it.

"What game?" Paul asks pulling on the jersey.

"Hockey," little man.

I notice Mark shaking his head.

"Let's play with some of your new toys," I say catching on.

"Thanks," Mark tells me when he follows me out the kitchen on an early morning cookie run. "I don't like Paul playing or watching violent games."

I shouldn't say anything. I always hated unsolicited parenting advice. But I have to. "The whole forbidding violence doesn't keep them from violence." It might have resulted in my son death.

He looks at me.

"Sam told you about…my son right?" I ask looking away. But even though my eyes are on the wall I know that he nodded, "We didn't let Charlie have toy guns. He accidently shot himself."

There is an awkward silence for a while.

"I'm not telling you what to do Mark. If I knew what I was doing my son would still be alive," I head back into the living room.

What kind of a dad will I be this time? Is our kid getting toy guns? Will Broca be playing hockey? What if Broca wants to box? Or do karate? Or join the military? Am I going to be ok with any of that?

I sit down next to Sam. She is holding the baby sized jersey.

We'll figure it out. The important thing is Broca exists.


	11. Bloodlines

**Sam**

Daniel comes knocking on the door and he looks furious.

"Where is he?" he demands.

"Jack's sick….I called him into work," I say somewhat confused.

"I know you did," Daniel says, "Depressed. He's depressed."

"He is," I say totally confused why that would make Daniel so angry. By this time he's already in the bedroom.

"Jack, get out of bed."

"Sam, why did you let Daniel in here," Jack whines pulling the blankets over his head.

"Get up, time to save the world," Daniel says.

"Not today," Jack says burrowing deeper.

"Fine, then time to go see a psychologist."

"I don't need a shrink."

"You said you were done with this staying in bed stuff."

"I lost my son!" he shouts.

I flinch.

Daniel doesn't.

"And we almost lost you!" Daniel shouts back.

I flinch again. I knew things were bad after Charlie died. I didn't know they were that bad.

"Daniel, I watched my son die."

"And what did that feel like?" Daniel challenges.

"Daniel," I warn.

"Do you want Sam to feel that? Me? Your kid? Depression can be a fatal disease, stop playing around with it."

Jack doesn't move.

"You aren't getting better Jack. You need help."

"I was a POW and after psychologists…" Jack mutters.

"So you had a negative experience with psychologists, we'll find you one you like. Meanwhile I did some research, so get up, we're going on a run."

"Daniel," Jack mutters.

"Running helps depression," Daniel says.

"Come on Jack," I prompt, nudging his shoulder through the blanket. Depression is fatal, Daniel said.

"E tu Carter?" comes the muffled reply.

"Get your ass out of bed," I say.

I grab his tennis shoes out of the closet, free his feet from the blankets and put them on.

"I bet I can run faster than you, Sir," I say.

He laughs, it's empty, but he laughs, "Nice try Carter."

"Come on, run and then you have to make your noon appointment," Daniel says, "Our mission was canceled today, but you'd better be ready to go on Friday or Teal'c is going with the Marines. He refused to miss this mission."

**Jack**

I come back from the run. I finally managed to talk Daniel out of the psychologist. Got to respect the guy for letting me do that. With a few words to Hammond he could probably make me.

I reach for a beer. None. Not a drop.

"Sam! Where'd the beer go?" I ask.

"How was the run?" she asks.

"Where's the beer?"

"Alcohol is a depressant."

"It's a coping mechanism, I'm going to the liquor store," I say grabbing my keys. For crying out loud, she's treating me like a child.

"Jack, please don't," she pleads.

"Sam, in case you forgot, you are the mother to Broca," I point, "not to me."

"Jack," she says catching my arm, "I was doing some research today, 20% of people who are depressed kill themselves."

"I'm not going to kill myself, Carter," I say. I'm trying to be dismissive, but she looks terrified. She was so accepting a few weeks ago when we spent the day watching TV in bed, when I just couldn't bring myself to get up. Why did Daniel have to go terrify her?

"I need you. I mean…this isn't about the baby…I mean Broca needs you too. But I don't just need some warm body to help me change diapers. I need you, specifically, because you're a wonderful person. I don't want you to…"

I take a deep breath, "Sam…I honestly haven't thought about suicide since I came back from Abydos."

"But you're not ok, you're still so sad. You deserve to be happy Jack."

This is what I worried about when I asked Sam to move in with me. I wasn't good enough for her.

"Sam, I really am trying to get better."

Her face softens, "I know, but this isn't the kind of thing you can just will away. You can't just decide you're going to be better and poof bye-bye depression."

I don't say anything, I know she isn't done.

"Jack, whatever a psychologist did to you, that was just one. There are good ones out there. I've been to a psychologist."

I look at her in surprise.

"After my mom died. I was fourteen, took it hard. My dad made me go. I was furious, thought I didn't need it. I did."

She pauses, "Please, Jack."

"I will think about it…now can I have a beer?"

"Nope, but you can have St. John's Wart, it's supposed to be good for depression," she says handing me a bottle of pills.

"And yet it has no hops."

She leans forward and kisses me and whispers so quietly I don't think I'm supposed to hear, "Please get better, Jack."

I didn't want to hurt her. Like I did to Sara.

**Sam**

"Rya'c! Rya'c!" Teal'c screams from the infirmary bed. Janet is doing surgery on him to figure out if he could survive without a symbiote.

"Rya'c! Rya'c!" he pleads.

"Teal'c!" Jack says with concern.

Janet walks closer to O'Neill, "Easy! It's okay now," over her shoulder to us she says, "He's coming around."

"The Goa'uld within me?" Teal'c asks Janet. Janet doesn't answer, just looks up at Jack.

"They had to put Junior back in, Teal'c," Jack says apologetically.

"We almost lost you. The drug didn't work, Teal'c. I'm sorry," Janet says.

"You were calling out something—Rya'c. Does that mean anything?" Daniel the ever-linguist says.

"It means nothing," Teal'c says, but it feels like a lie.

**Jack**

Teal'c just freaked out on General Hammond. He wants to go back to his home planet. I know there has got to be something behind it and I really want to know what that something is.

I knock on the door and walk in when he doesn't answer. He just continues sitting on the floor with candles surrounding him.

"Look, um, I'm sorry if I didn't…" I really am bad with words, "You do understand why we can't go back to Chulak, right?"

His only response was a raise in an eyebrow.

"They'll get that drug to work long before that thing dies inside you," I assure him.

"I am not concerned about my life. I am concerned for the life of my son.

"Your son?" this is new information.

"His name is Rya'c. I have not spoken of him, or of my wife." I plop down in Teal'c's desk chair. A desk chair he almost never uses, because he spends most of his time sitting on the floor. "You left…a family back there?" I can't imagine leaving Sam back there. Leaving Broca. But I left Sara, so I guess I'm not a whole lot better.

I put my hand in my face and let my anger show "Teal'c, you told the G—no, you swore to the General you had no ties back there. Why didn't you tell us the truth?"

"A warrior becomes vulnerable if his family is held hostage to the enemy."

Oh for crying out loud. He thinks we wouldn't have taken him with a family? "You didn't think we'd trust you if we knew? Teal'c, how the hell are we supposed to trust you now? Huh? You got any more surprises?"

"With or without you, O'Neill, I must return to Chulak," he says stubbornly.

"Either way it's suicide, my friend," and I've been trying to do the tough love thing, but my voice goes soft on the last word.

"Within days, my son will come of age. He will be called to the religious life of our world. He will undergo the ceremony of implantation. The Primta. The day when a young boy receives his first Goa'uld symbiote and becomes a true Jaffa. Just as all other Jaffa before him."

They are going to put a snake in his kid? Wait, his kid doesn't already have a snake? I probably need a Jaffa biology 101 class or something.

"I take it you don't want that to happen?"

"It is the means by which the Goa'uld enslave the Jaffa. I am not the only one among my people who believes this. My first teacher, the Jaffa Master Bra'tac, he knew very well the Goa'uld are false gods. But I cannot…I will not allow my son to become a slave."

**Sam**

"Sam, turns out I won't be home for dinner."

"You ok?" I ask.

"Yeah," he pauses, the kind of pause that lets me know he's waiting for someone to walk away. Probably Walter, it sounds like the gate room. He should know that Walter knows everything. "You know Teal'c has a kid?"

"What?"

"Yeah, he's twelve; Teal'c's got a wife too."

"Where?"

"Chulak, we're ah…going to go retrieve the kid before they put a snake in his gut."

"Jack, you can't go to Chulak," the words come out of my mouth before I ever thought. I don't like the things my voice is doing.

I hear him shifting closer to the phone, "We have to get Teal'c's kid."

"I know," I say.

"I…I'll see you in a couple days, Sammy," he says.

"Take care of yourself and that team of yours, Jack," I tell him.

**Jack**

Teal'c's house is nothing more than ruins. The sort of thing Daniel would like to study. Teal'c walks around to the other side and kneels down. It's the first time I've seen real emotions on his face and what emotions they are. Despair. Hopelessness.

"Well it looks like this happened a long time ago," I comport.

"Teal'c, there's no reason to believe your wife and son were in the house when this happened," Daniel comforts him.

Teal'c is distraught and I don't know what to do about it. I do know that I am the most qualified to deal with it. I actually lost a son. He walks into the rubble and starts throwing boards around. Then he shoves his shoulder against a wall. I should say something.

"Teal'c, Daniel's right. You don't know what's happened here.  
Suddenly I feel metal on my neck and hear the words, "Obi tan! Shree! Shree! Shree!" shouted at me.

Teal'c walks outside and his mouth breaks into a wide grin, "Tek'mat'te Bra'tac."

"Teal'c," my assailant says.

"It is good to see you, friend," Teal'c says as they give each other a tight hug with a slap on the back. A manly hug indeed, "Were I an enemy, you would be dead," this new guy who is called Bra'tac says.

"My wife and son?" Teal'c asks.

"I am told they escaped the burning," I have never seen such relief on a person's face before; "I thought you might return in time for your boy's ceremony, Teal'c. Brave, but unwise."

"If you were awaiting my return, perhaps there are others?" Teal'c says nervously.

"Others don't know you as I do. But I expected you to come alone," Bra'tac says looking at my team suspiciously.

Teal'c introduces us all around. When he gets to Bra'tac he says, "My first teacher, Bra'tac. The greatest Jaffa master I have ever known."

Bra'tac sizes us up, "Where is the human woman who helped defeat the palace guard at Chulak?"

I am so glad that Sam is not here. She would not like that tone of disapproval that goes into his "woman". Sam isn't here so I feel the need to defend her, "Hey, now Sam could kick your…."

But he cuts me off by turning to Daniel, "And you? A warrior of great skill and cunning?" he bends his arm up to his mouth effortlessly, "I could snap you like kindling! How could you bring these hashack with you?" he asks Teal'c.

"Hey! Hey! Hey! Who you calling a hassock?" I protest. I turn to Daniel, "What's a hassock?"

"You challenge me hashack?" Bra'tac demands.

"Ah, no. I don't think we came to fight you," I reply. Sam would kill me if I got hurt in an unnecessary fight.

"A shame," he mutters. He turns as if he is going to walk away, but suddenly thrusts his staff weapon at me. It's a very low thrust, you wouldn't normally expect. But I'm sort of trained in the whole expecting the unexpected bit so I grab it and pull it upwards. Both of our hands, four in all, have a firm grip on the staff weapon. We're both fighting for control, but yet it has a fluid motion.

It's kind of like a ouija board. You're all trying to move it and so it looks like some force outside of you is moving it. Wonder if something like this in sword fights didn't cause the whole "force be with you" Jedi concept to be born.

I'm stronger than him, so I use my brute force and sword fighting footwork (well, at least the footwork I observed from a few too many viewings of bad sword fighting movies) to knock him off balance. As he hits the floor I keep the staff weapon near his throat.

"We're here on a mission. If you don't want to be a part of it, just say so."

Bra'tac laughs as he starts to get up, I pull the staff weapon far enough away from him that I don't hamper his movement "You choose your friends well, Teal'c. Though, were I a hundred years younger, it might not have been quite so easy."

"You're over a hundred years old?" he nods, "God, I'm sorry," I say reaching out to help the old man off the floor. He takes my hand at the elbow, and before I know it, a leg comes from either side slamming me to the floor. A cloud of dust rises up around me and I hear him doing a little summersault move to stand up.

"A hundred and thirty three," he says planting his staff weapon on the ground smugly.

"You must work out," I mutter. Bra'tac offers me his hand. I grab it by the elbow and stand up.

"No one has ever defied the Goa'uld and lived to tell of it. There was much talk in Chulak of the warriors of Earth."

"Really?" I say with a grin. Fame, not something I ever thought I was going to experience. Especially with a classified program like the Stargate.

"Our time here is limited. Can you take us to find my wife and son?" Teal'c asks.

"Your family is kresh'ta. Outcasts. The kresh'ta live in a handful of camps outside the city. I do not know which one your family belongs to," Bra'tac says. Even though I don't totally understand what he just said, I can tell from the tone that Bra'tac believes he was delivering bad news.

**Rya'c**

"Rya'c? Rya'c?" I open my eyes. It's my father's voice, so it must be a dream. Two seasons ago, my father disappeared and my mother said that my father had died.

"Father?" I ask. I feel his hand in mine. "I knew he was not dead," I tell my mother.

"How long has the sickness been in him?" father asks concerned by my cough. The cough hurts my chest.

"Since we were driven from our home. Do you understand now? Without the healing powers of the Goa'uld, he will die," mother says. What? I am not receiving my primta? Mom gives me a glass of water.

"What have I done?" Father bemoans as two other people I do not know come into the room.

"How's he doing, Teal'c?" one of them asks.

"He is dying," father says. I'm dying? But mother said I was going to be fine. All I needed was a symbiote.

"I'm no doctor, but I know scarlet fever when I see it," the man says, taking a small envelope from his vest.

"Can it be treated by your Earth medicines?" Father asks him nervously and I wonder where 'earth' is. I don't remember learning about it among any of the planets that I studied when I was in school.

"There's some vaccines, antibiotics," the man turns to my mother, "Give me that water."

He pours some powder into the glass and has my mother give it to me, "It won't cure him, you know. It'll take more powerful drugs than I've got with me."

**Teal'c**

"Oh, he no longer draws breath, Teal'c," Drey'auc sobs.

"Rya'c. Rya'c," I call him.

"Teal'c. We should try to make it to the Stargate," O'Neill says.

"By then it will be too late. There is another way," I tell him. I know what my duty is as a father.

"No, no, no," Drey'auc pleads as I remove some armor.

"Teal'c, you wanna think about this? You can't live for more than a couple of hours without that thing," O'Neill says halfheartedly. He knows he has already lost the battle. He's a father himself.

"It is a father's right," Bra'tac says proudly. He is a father, although he has no offspring.

"What of you, Teal'c?" my wife asks.

I pull Rya'c's clothes away from his stomach. I am about to do the thing I have feared for months. The thing which has haunted my nightmares for months, "I am sorry, my son, that it is I who must do this to you. But I do it to save your life," the symbiote slithers out of my stomach and into my hand. It crosses my fingers and enters my son's pouch.

"Forgive me, my son. Forgive me."

He may have a Goa'uld inside of him, but he will never be their slave.

**Teal'c**

I am prepared to die so that my son might live. But Daniel and Sergeant Siliar found an immature symbiote. My wife holds my head on her lap and I feel the symbiote wiggle into my pouch.

**Rya'c**

Father was carrying me. He sets me down with a hug.

"Your father has given you life," my mother says.

"A Goa'uld?" I ask happily, I have become a man. I smile, but Father does not smile back at me, he looks very grave.

"Your Primta. It is all I can give you until I return. Follow the guidance of Bra'tac and your mother and you will learn to become a great warrior," Father says. My father is leaving me again? Why is he always leaving?

"Stay," I plead.

"I cannot. But the day of my return will come," he says.

"When?"

"It may be a very long time, my son. But the life of a Jaffa is long. I know the day will come when we will stand side by side in battle to free our people from the false gods. Remember, my son, remember."

I give my father a hug and return to my mother. My mother will never leave me.

**Sam**

When Jack comes home from the mission he doesn't say a word. He goes into the fridge to look for a beer. There are no beers, because they are really bad for people who suffer from depression. He stares at the fridge for a second before he closes it. He sits down on the couch, and then he lays down on it and closes his eyes.

"Jack?" I ask nervously. What went wrong? If someone was dead they'd call me right?

"He just left him," he mutters.

"Who did you leave?"

"Rya'c, the kid," he mutters.

"You guys left a 12 year old alone on that planet?" I ask concerned.

"He left him with his mother. But he just left them there. It was his son."

Ok, so this is not so much about trauma he just suffered as about the loss of his son. I sit down next to him, putting my arm on his shoulder.

"I left Sara," he mutters.

I lay down next to him, "I thought she left you."

"Sometimes I can't tell the difference. She was right to leave. No one should have to put up with depressed people."

He thinks I'm going to leave him. "Jack, me asking you to get help, that wasn't about me, that was about you."

"It shouldn't be this hard to be with someone."

"It's always hard to love someone." Oh no, I did not just say that out loud did I? Love? We are so not in the place to be taking about love. Jack is so not the guy who talks about love. Is it even true? Do I love him?

"I don't want to lose this kid," he says touching my stomach, "because you leave me or I leave you. It's all the same. At least to this little one."

"I'm not going anywhere, Jack," I say putting an arm around him and pulling him into a hug.

"Sam…I'm sorry…you didn't know what you were getting into when you signed up for this. I should have told you. I don't want you staying just because…"

"I'm not going anywhere, Jack," I repeat.

"Sam…I can't do it. I thought I could…"

"I'm taking you as you are. Just…" I take a breath, "don't go leaving me either…not by death, for sure."

He nods.

"And I think you should get help, you deserve to be happy."

He laughs, an empty laugh, "I don't deserve anything."

"Ok, Broca deserves you to be happy."

He nods.

"You're a good man, Jack, don't forget that," I say snuggling closer. He nuzzles into my neck.

"And about that thing you said awhile ago, Carter?" my mind is racing trying to figure out exactly what I said, "Ditto."

Did Jack O'Neill just say he loved me?


	12. Fire and Water

Note: This chapter is why this story is rated M. If I should go back to sticking to T rating please tell me. I have another idea for a bedroom scene. But I think I suck at them. If I do please tell me so I can put my efforts into other parts of the story.

When I read, months ago, about the hormone levels, and the things they do to you in the second trimester, I wasn't worried. First of all, I thought Jack and I would have left off this stupid separate bedroom stuff by then. Second of all, I thought I was more in control of my body than this, but this is ridiculous.

He actually took me out for a nice dinner, and he's making conversation that has nothing to do with the baby, or work, or hockey, or the Simpsons. A rare enough feat. And all my dirty little mind is doing is replaying our time in the locker room.

Turns out I remember more than I thought I did, and it was amazing.

I want a repeat.

I really need a repeat. Like now. Do you think he'd follow me into the bathroom? Probably only if I reinfected him with the Broca virus. Not a bad idea. But I'll probably wait until we get home.

"Do you want dessert?" he asks.

"Hell no," I say.

He raises his eyebrow at me.

"I'd rather get home," I inform him.

"Tired?" he asks concerned.

"I definitely want to go to bed," I respond in my most alluring voice, but he doesn't seem to notice.

**Jack**

I put the key in the lock, and start to twist the door handle and suddenly find myself flung against the door. Sam twists the handle, and pushes me through the opening. She backs me against a wall, and starts an assault on my mouth. When she moves onto my neck I manage to push her a bit away and get out a half strangled, "Sam."

She closes her eyes, and pulls away, "I'm still asking, and you're still saying no."

God, what have I done to her self confidence? "You have to understand that I want to say yes. That the only reason I'm saying no is my suspicion that this has more to do with the fact that you've entered your second trimester than anything between us."

She flops against the door closing it with her body, "My dad thinks I'm a slut, and my…whatever the hell you are…think I'm some pure virgin that would not have sex with someone she's been dating for two months unless chemicals were messing with her brain."

I decide to ignore the question about what I am to her. Even though we should definitely figure that out before we sleep together. I should just call myself her boyfriend, but it just sounds wrong, which is why I haven't done that. I figured I'd avoid the question long enough that fiancé would fit the bill.

"Sam, you're not a slut, and I do want you," I say that slowly, while looking her in the eyes to make sure that she knows that I really and truly mean it. "I just don't want our second time to be like our first. Something you are going to regret, and wonder if you hurt me. I want our second time to be a conscious decision you make not based on chemicals in your brain."

"It's always based on chemicals in the brain Jack, or else there would be no human race."

I shake my head, "I want it to be two people being together, being profoundly and powerfully with each other. I want you to feel wanted, and needed."

"Ok," she says moving close to me, and trying to kiss me again.

"No," I say pulling back, "No spur of the moment stuff, Sam. If you still feel like this tomorrow…ok, but not tonight." I give her a kiss on the cheek, but she leans into it so much that it ends up falling closer to her neck. Even that is almost enough to cause my willpower to shatter.

I pull away from her. "Goodnight, Sam."

**Jack later**

I know that a dream and reality are fighting for dominance in my brain, but I'm a little unsure which one is real. One involves the gorgeous Samantha Carter in my bed, and the other involves a snake taking over Sam and controlling her. Neither one seems particularly like reality.

"It's tomorrow," I hear a voice whisper. That's enough to bring me out of the dream, and into the reality. Which unbelievably is the beautiful woman in my bed. Usually I wake to find the nightmare real and the fantasy false. A glance at the clock reveals that it is indeed 12:01. And Sam is pressed against me, completely naked.

"You awake yet, Jack?" she asks.

"Getting there," I admit.

"Good," she says. She starts kissing my neck. My fingers trail across her bare back leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake. I can feel her nipples go hard as they rub against mine as she moves her body for greater access to my neck. I can feel a portion of myself grow hard against the sweatpants I always wear to bed.

She pulls away, "Jack, if you tell me to stop…"

"Don't stop," I whisper in her ear, knowing from previous experience that air by her ear causes shivers to go down her back, "Don't stop, Samantha," I repeat as I flip her under myself.

**Sam**

Waking up in Jack's bed, the plan that seemed so brilliant last night seems really stupid. I mean when a guy keeps telling you he doesn't want to have sex with you, sneaking into his bed at midnight is not the most honest thing to do.

But I can't bring myself to regret it, because wow. I mean, I know sex is supposed to be better when you're pregnant, and I was as horny as hell. But I'm pretty sure those weren't the only reasons sex was amazing.

What I remember from the Broca virus was great, but I don't remember everything, and this was different. This time…he made me feel so…loved. I've never felt so important, so appreciated, so equal to a man I've had sex with. Everything was as much about me, as it was about him. Maybe even more about me. He predicted my needs and filled them. God did he fill them.

I really hope I didn't screw up my chances of getting a repeat performance by my naked arrival in his bed last night.

I feel him pull himself closer to me, and he wraps an arm around me. I'm trying to decide if he's awake or not when suddenly he turns and whispers in my ear, "'Morning Samantha."

I turn to him as quickly as I can, which results in his open hand accidently grazing across my left boob. That results in a portion of Jack pushing against my side as I turn. I scoot back to make sure that doesn't end up pressing against my front. Don't need anything that's going to make me horny again right now.

But Jack, smiling at me, looking at me, that's doing it without feeling him on me.

"Jack…about last night…" I stammer.

He smiles at me, "I don't have any regrets, you?" his smile suddenly fades, and he looks concerned, "I told you to wait until you were sure…"

"I was just worried that you'd regret it," I say. But he still looks insecure. I lean forward to whisper in his ear, "Last night was amazing."

"Yeah?" he asks trying to sound sure of himself but failing.

"Really amazing," I say.

"Am I hearing an encore?" he asks.

"Definitely," I say.

**Daniel**

Jack swore to me that he had this under control. And he's late for work. He's getting worse, not better. Back to Jack's house to kick his ass for being depressed.

The joys of being a best friend.

I knock on the door, but he doesn't come answer it. Luckily Sam told me where he keeps his spare key when we were moving in. Too bad Jack doesn't know about it.

I walk into the silent house. I kind of figured Sam would be somewhere since she doesn't have to work today. Oh, well. I fling the bedroom door open and leap onto Jack's bed saying, "Get up, Jack!"

"What?" he exclaims in horror.

Then I hear Sam giggle. Oh crap. I jump off the bed. "I think he's telling you to get out of bed Jack," she says. More giggling and then she mutters, "besides, I'm pretty sure what you thought he said is physically impossible for a bit."

"What the hell are you doing in our bed?" Jack demands.

"Our bed?" I ask.

"No, it is definitely not 'our bed', Daniel, you don't belong in it," Jack grumbles.

"That's right, he doesn't share his bed with just any member of SG-1," Sam giggles.

"I'm so sorry, guys," I exclaim in horror, "I didn't know…expect…Jack was late and I was expecting a depressed Jack alone in bed, I'm…"

"We have a mission today?" Jack asks.

"Yes, Jack, read your memos."

"Ah…wait for me Daniel, I'll be ready to go in five," Jack says. He's about to leap up from the bed when he realizes I'm still in the room. I hustle my way out of there.

A few minutes later Sam emerges wrapped in Jack's robe.

"I am so sorry Sam," I say standing up as she enters the room. My God, I just hopped into the bed with the woman, and her boyfriend!

She laughs. She is the only one who finds this funny. "It's ok, Daniel, it would have been much worse if you'd arrived a few minutes earlier," I can feel my face go red at the comment, "but your heart was in the right place. You were looking out for Jack. You failed to remember he doesn't read his memos, but your heart was in the right place."

"Sam! Where is my robe?" Jack calls.

"Around my naked body," she screams back causing me to blush again.

There is a pause, and then I hear him say, "I'll find something else to wear."

"Coffee?" Sam asks me. She doesn't wait for an answer, but goes over to the machine and starts making it. I'm sort of famous at work for being a big fan of coffee, but in my defense it is mostly a habit that I picked up when I was in grad school, and my early days at the SGC. When sleep was a luxury I could not afford. But I do like coffee.

The conversation flows pretty easily, considering the awkwardness of what just happened, and I realize how much I miss having her on the team. I mean her replacement, Sergeant Siler, is great. But he doesn't have a wide knowledge base. He's great at fixing stuff, but not about talking about fixing stuff, and he knows nothing about the soft sciences, my neck of the woods. Jack and Teal'c are both brilliant, but not great conversationalists like Captain Dr. Sam. I'll have to come over and see them more often.

When the coffee is done she pours two travel cups. One she puts in front of me. One she holds out at arm's length. My archeologist brain is kicking in and I'm surmising this is some sort of a cultural offering to the coffee god or something. But a few seconds after she holds it out Jack swoops in and grabs it. He's dressed, but his wet hair is incredibly disheveled.

"You made coffee?" he says in surprise.

"We had a guest," she says smoothing out his hair.

"It's going to smell like coffee in here all morning. If you have a cup it wouldn't hurt the baby, so don't feel guilty. Just stick to one."

"I'll dump it out in a second so I won't be tempted," she says as she finished fixing his hair.

"Have a good day," he says giving her a kiss.

"Stay safe," she says as she hands him a banana.

"Really?" he says with a quirked eyebrow, "Do we really need to add sexually suggestive fruit to this morning?"

She giggles, "It's all we have that can be ready fast, and Daniel is so embarrassed he's not going to tease you."

"Clearly Samantha, you know nothing about men. The teasing is going to start as soon as he's out of earshot of polite company."

Sam grins at me, "Daniel respects me, and all women far too much for that, doesn't he?" she prompts.

Clever girl. And I had ten jokes and a dirty limerick for the ride in. But I'd feel like a slime ball using them now.

"Come back again," Sam says with a smile as I go to leave.

"But knock on bedroom doors, please" Jack mutters.

**Sam**

Janet didn't give me a whole lot of details when she called, which is always a bad sign. The fewer details she gives the worse the situation.

"Is Jack ok?" I ask when I enter the infirmary. No one answers me, but they are all rushing into a medical room. I follow them, and see Jack. He's wearing medical scrubs. He's sitting on the bed with his knees bent up to him.

"Jack, what's wrong?" I ask. I run to his side, but his eyes aren't focusing on me.

"Give him this," Janet says walking up behind me, and handing me a blanket.

"What's wrong with him?" I ask her.

"He's in shock," she says. I take the blanket, which is warmed and put it around him.

A nurse is trying to take Teal'c's blood pressure.

"I do not wish this done," he says with panic.

"Relax Teal'c, they're just trying to take your blood pressure," Jack tells him in a listless voice like he gets on the days when he can't get out of bed. He's rocking back and forth little that you can only see if you really know him.

"It's all right, that can wait for now. Okay…Colonel," she says feeling Jack's neck, "Any pain? Headache?"

"No," he says shaking his head.

Janet takes out her penlight, and shines it in his eyes saying, "I'd like you to look straight ahead please?" He flinches, and I grab on his arm in sympathy.

"I'm sorry, you must be photosensitive."

"Ya think?" he says sarcastically

"It's all right, Colonel. We can do this after the debriefing. Or even tomorrow."

"Thank you," Jack says, truly gratefully. Janet leaves. After Janet takes a couple of steps he mutters "thank you," again more honestly. I sit down next to Jack. I'm pretty sure I've figured out what is wrong, but I'm afraid to say it.

Finally after a few minutes of silence I reach over, and grab Jack's hand, "Daniel?" I ask.

"Gone."

"Jack…"

"Siler was taking samples…volcanoes. I hear Daniel say, 'Colonel, help me,' but then he was just gone. Engulfed in flames."

"Jack, it wasn't your fault, you did everything you could."

"No, I swear to God, Sam, I tried to get to him, but the heat was…It…It…It blasted toward us and…"

"How did you get out?" I whisper.

"There was a body of water somewhere nearby, it was like a lake or a sea, maybe. We all submerged ourselves; that's what saved us."

I lean against him, hoping I am offering him some comfort.

"Jesus Carter, he was in our bed this morning."

I rub his back.

"I shouldn't have teased him…" Jack says.

"You teased each other, that's what you did. It was like you were family," and I realize I just made it worse. Jack has already lost enough family.

**Jack**

Seven days of stand down.

What the hell am I going to do with seven days of stand down? I figure if I head to my office, I can get some of the paperwork I've been avoiding done. But I can't concentrate so I actually go home.

"Jack," Sam says. I can tell she stopped one of those really stupid questions on her lips. A question like 'how are you' or 'are you ok?'

"You hungry?"

I shake my head.

"Should you eat anyway?" she presses. This time I nod.

"Funerals tomorrow, ok if we have a wake afterword?" I ask.

She nods, "You're off tomorrow, back Tuesday. I have a week of thumb twiddling."

She just nods again.

**Sam**

I've seen grief before. I've lived grief before. But I've never experienced anything like this before. One minute he's curled in a ball crying. The next he's throwing stuff against the wall (if I'm really clever it is only pillows he throws). And then he's shivering with cold no matter how many blankets are on him. It's four am and neither of us have gotten any sleep yet.

Suddenly I hear his voice, "Sam you have to get out of here," he says weakly, sounding defeated.

"I'm not leaving you," I say rubbing his arm.

"You're pregnant, and I'm keeping you up. You need to sleep."

"It's ok Jack, I'll sleep later."

"I'm sorry I'm such a basket case," he says with something halfway between a laugh and a sob.

"Keeping me from being a basket case, Jack," I say. He rolls over and faces me, looks at me for a long time. "I need something to do," I say with a shrug.

"Com'ere," he mutters. He holds me close to him, and I fall asleep. When I wake up the next morning I find myself pretty sure that it was a trick to get me to fall asleep. Even when his world is falling apart he takes care of other people.

**Janet**

Four Airmen march into the gate room. Two rifles, two flags. One for the nation, and one for the SGC. The strange unexisting place for which Daniel gave his life.

We stand there, acutely aware that any day it could be us having a body-less funeral. That even though we are at war with people who seem like monsters, they are very real indeed. The mere fact that no one knows who we are at war with does not mean that this war is not all together too real.

They fold the flag as the Stargate engages. Colonel O'Neill makes his way to the place behind the podium. From a brief conversation I had with Sam after they came, I know he's been having a lot of trouble. I'm a little concerned about whether or not he'll be able to do this. I know it's going to kill Jack if he has an emotional outburst on that stage.

His wounds are still so fresh. It wasn't that long ago that he lost his son.

"Daniel Jackson…made this place…happen. As a member of SG-1…he was our voice; our conscience. He was a very courageous man. He was a good man. For those of us lucky enough to have known him, he was also a friend."

They hand O'Neill the flag. Daniel doesn't really have next of kin. If he did they wouldn't allow them to see this ceremony. Jack and Sam walk up the ramp to the Stargate. Taps plays hauntingly in the background. For a second the flag floats in the air, and then it disappears.

General Hammond steps up to the podium and continues the speech, "We commend Daniel Jackson's spirit to the Universe he opened up for us. I pledge to continue our journey of discovery in his memory. May he rest in peace."

**Sam**

I try to focus on the conversation I am having, but I really haven't been able to focus on anything since Daniel died. I hear Jack telling an animated story to a Lieutenant, "So we're sitting around eating some kind of gourmet Abydonian cuisine. Daniel tells Sha're he's going to show us this cartouche thing, but before we leave, she stands up and plants a kiss on him that makes his face disappear for a day."

Teal'c looks really uncomfortable with Jack's 'Irish' wake "I do not understand this ritual."

"It's called a wake."

"On Chulak when someone dies, it is the custom to not eat for three days and nights."

"Yeah, well…a wake is like a big party; supposed to give the departed a jolly send off," or so Jack told me as we put the party together this morning. I'm not exactly a huge fan of this concept, but I'm certainly not going to get in the way of the only way Jack has attempted to deal with his grief so far.

Jack places a glass of beer on the table, and walks out of the house. Teal'c glances at me, and follows Jack out of the house.

Jack is hitting small balls into a hockey net. He's hitting them much harder than the child sized toy (God, I wonder if it was Charlie's?) can handle. He keeps swinging a ball into the net. He knocks the net over with the force of his blow. He smacks the net with the stick. Then he swirls, and bangs the hockey stick into the window of a car smashing glass all over the driveway.

"Come get this damn car out of here!" he demands.

People are trying really hard not to stare. Hammond walks over by Jack, "What's on your mind, Colonel?"

"Retirement, actually," he whispers so softly I can barely hear them. I touch my stomach absently. I hope this baby doesn't have to do with that.

"You don't mean that," Hammond says.

Jack sighs, "I think I do."

"Well, I can't let you do that at the moment. I've got an assignment for SG-1, and Captain Carter. Dr. Jackson's apartment needs to be closed by Stargate personnel. National security aside, you're probably the closest thing he had to a family. It's not an order, it's a request."

"Yes, sir," Jack says.

"Why don't you come join the others in the back?" and I know that Hammond is suffering from fatherly concern for him.

"Yes, sir," he says, and they both start heading back toward the backyard.

"You know that's my car, don't you?" Hammond asks.

"You should get that window fixed," Jack replies dryly.

**Jack**

It's pretty sad that I've never been in Daniel's apartment before. I mean it's pretty sad that we're the closest thing Daniel had to family, and I never even went to his house. We mostly just spent time together at work. But for us, at work meant most of the galaxy so…

I can't believe this guy managed to acquire this much crap in the time he's worked for the SGC. I mean in just six months he's managed to line every wall with books (most of them in his own handwriting) acquire a strange artifact for every corner, and get a large tank of fish.

Actually the tank of fish raises a series of questions the most pressing of which is how did he get someone to feed them when he was offworld without worrying about the person reading the classified mission material that sat a mere two feet away?

I realize the answer is probably that the two things' proximity never occurred to Daniel, or to whatever he got to feed the fish.

"Oh wow, look at these. Expedition journals, one for each planet we visited," Sam says with awe, "One for Abydos." She opens it up to a random page and reads it for a little bit before she starts to read some of it aloud, "'Colonel O'Neill thinks I'm a geek. I have no idea how to get us back. I'll never get paid.'" I put my face in my hands for a second. She flips to the next page, and continues to read, "Oh wow, he must have written this right after we got back. 'Sha're is gone, Jack says we'll find her. If anyone can, he can.'"

"Ah, come on, that's his diary. I mean, what's he going to think if—" But I stop, because Daniel isn't ever going to think anything ever again. Sam looks like I've wounded her just by being wounded, and I'm sick of this depression crap.

"Wonder what they're going to do with all this stuff," Carter says after putting the journal back.

"Maybe give it to a museum? Or start one."

Teal'c is fiddling with a board game. He says, "This is a game from ancient Egypt. It is called the Jackal and the Hound. It belonged to a Pharaoh's daughter. Daniel Jackson and I once played. He said it made him feel as though he were touching history."

Siler is staring at the fish tank. Suddenly he pushes away exclaiming, "Whoa!"

"What? What is it? You all right?" I ask.

"Uh, I…I just had this image in my mind. It's the second time," he says.

"What was it?"

"Water…underwat…" Siler says.

"Bubbles rising?" I ask, and the SG-1 that was off world (I still very much consider Sam to be a member of SG-1) all nod.

"That is correct, I have experienced it as well."

"I'm telling you, something's wrong," I insist.

"Yeah, what's wrong here, Colonel, is that Daniel is dead," Sam says bitterly.

"Is he?" Jack asks.

"You were there," Sam says shocked.

" We were all there!" Siler says.

"Then why don't I believe it? I mean, I keep expecting him to walk through the door! I— I— I keep getting these…" I bounce and look everywhere in the room but at the people in the room. "Screw this packing, let's get back to the base."

**Janet**

Sam has been quietly, confidentially, half as a friend half as a loved one of a patient been telling me about how much Jack has been struggling with Daniel's death. I'm not surprised, not with Jack's history of depression. It's not like Jack gets depressed for no reason at all. God knows the man has enough reason to be depressed. After he was a POW he had therapy for awhile, and anti-depressants. He needed them after Charlie died too, but the Air Force sent him on a suicide mission instead.

Now, I've been trying to figure out how to get Jack the help that he needs without ending his career. And the answer falls into my lap. Because it's not just Jack that's compromised. It's not just Jack with altered brain chemistry.

"Well, your brain chemistry's been seriously compromised. All of you have abnormally low levels of serotonin," I tell SG-1.

"Which means…?" O'Neill prompts even though I'm pretty sure he actually knows. Good doctors don't give anti-depressants without explaining this. Probably doesn't want anyone to know that he's had anti-depressants. Probably doesn't realize we all do.

"It's a neurotransmitter that affects moods. Now, low levels would account for depression, but not these other effects. Come here. I want you to take a look at this."

I take them over to a computer and show them the area of the brain scan that is discolored in all of SG-1 (or the surviving members of SG-1. They are dropping like flies. Thank goodness Sam's is only a temporary leave from the front line team). "This dark spot here appears on all of your scans. Now, it's almost too small an anomaly to worry about but for the fact that it's in virtually the same part of the cortex—"

An alarm goes off announcing an offworld activation, and SG-1 takes off running. I chase them down the hallway.

"Colonel?"

"What…what are you looking for?" I ask.

"I just…I thought that—" Jack says confused.

"Daniel Jackson was returning," Teal'c says frowning.

"I thought the same thing," Siler admits.

"You— you saw it happen," I say carefully wishing suddenly I'd taken a few more psychology courses in college.

"Somebody want to tell me what the hell is going on? Because I am starting to lose it here," Colonel O'Neill says.

"Doctor?" Hammond asks me as he approaches.

"General, uh— there seems to be some question in their minds as to whether or not Dr. Jackson is dead," I say carefully.

"Well, you three were the only witnesses. If you're denying what you saw—" Hammond says confused.

"No sir. I saw him die. We all did. I know he's gone," Colonel O'Neill says confidently. Then he pauses, "But I know he's still alive." Jack's voice becomes firm, "Sir, we have got to go ba—" O'Neill bends a bit in pain, grasps his head and digs his hands into his temple.

"You're not going anywhere but the Infirmary!" Hammond says firmly.

"I want to know what's going on, Doctor. One of our people could still be out there," Hammond directs me before I follow SG-1 back to my infirmary.

**Jack**

I hate shrinks. I have always hated shrinks. Every time I deal with shrinks I hate them more. This one, 'Dr. Mackenzie' is playing ocean music. This is supposed to make us ok with Daniel's death, or make it so that Daniel isn't dead.

"Catchy tune. Want to explain to me what this…mood music is all about?" I sneer.

"Dr. Mackenzie said it might help you remember more specifically what happened, if you listen," Hammond says.

"We're simply using these sounds as a tool to increase your level of concentration, Colonel," Mackenzie says. That's one thing I hate about shrinks. Extra qualifiers. "Just" "only" they use them to make impossible things seems easy.

"Well, it's very distracting. Look, we're trying to play b—" just then I notice that Teal'c is staring into space, "Teal'c?" I ask.

Teal'c jumps to his feet shouting in Goa'uld. I stand up and put an arm around Teal'c.

"Teal'c, snap out of it!" I say.

"I saw the death of Daniel Jackson," Teal'c says.

The psychiatrist looks interested. I hate the fact that shrinks almost always look pleased when you admit something terrifying.

"It's all right. The same thing keeps happening to me," I sooth.

"All three of you have conflicting feelings about Daniel," Mackenzie says.

"It's a conflict that will have to be resolved, before I'll authorize your return back to active duty, Colonel," the General tells me.

**Sam**

Jack and his teammates have just come out of a psych evaluation. I look at him, and there are no emotions in his face.

"How did it go?" I ask.

"Mackenzie did some hypnosis on Siler. We left him behind."

"Jack," I say.

"We left him behind," he insists. We are alone in the hall, and I'm pretty sure Jack is opening up to me way more than he usually does to anyone. "I was left behind once," He pounds his fist in the air, "I swore I would NEVER leave anyone behind!"

"There were extenuating circumstances, Jack. You were…"

"Brainwashed," he finishes, "yeah, we're going to go get Daniel."

"Bring him home, Jack," I say as he leaves.

**Janet**

It took some doing to get Jack to come in for his appointment at a different time than the rest of SG-1. But it was completely necessary to have privacy for this conversation.

"Teal'c, and Siler's brain scans have returned to normal," I tell him.

"And mine haven't? You telling me that fish did permanent damage?"

I shake my head, "Yours were different to begin with. The thing about the mood stabilizers I gave you…they have lots of purposes, and have been showing very good results."

"You want to put me back on the crazy pills?" he says with a sigh.

"I want you to get the help they should have given you a year a half ago before they tried to kill you."

He's silent for a moment. "These things….can be career altering when used long term."

I smile, "See I wrote down in your records that you developed an addiction to them after needing them, because an alien messed with your brain."

"Thank you Janet," he says.

"No problem," I say with a smile, "and if you need someone to talk to…and don't want that someone to be Mackenzie, or Sam, or SG-1, my door is open to you."

"Thanks," he says again sincerely.


	13. The Cabin

Revised thanks to a reviewer to reminded me there are such things as whether, climate, and latitude. Duh! Hey Dorothy we're not in Colorado anymore.

And apparently I'm totally wrong about the location of Jack's cabin. I thought he just said "Northern Minnesota" but Silver Creek is mentioned once, unfortunately, I'm too stubborn to let my hours of research go to waste so totally illogically I'm calling that part of the AU story.

**Jack**

After Daniel returned from the dead we got some leave. Some leave right over Valentines Day. And I realized that I'd never taken Sam to the cabin. Which means I hadn't been up to the cabin in five months. Ridiculous, must be rectified immediately.

I could also use a change in scenery, and have my suspicions that the sneaky Dr. Frasier had something to do with Sam and I getting leave at the same time.

"Samantha," Is say coming into her lab.

"Hey," she looks up briefly from her work, smiles, and gets buried in it again.

"We've been on leave for the past two hours," I remind her.

"Ah huh," she mutters.

"When people are on leave, they should actually leave."

"Yep," she says.

"Come on then!" I exclaim.

"Jack, I'm working on a naquada generator."

"Naquada?" I ask concerned.

She nods.

"Isn't that the energy source more powerful than a nuclear reactor? You know the one that emits dangerous amounts of radiation?"

"Jack, it does not emit radiation! Do you really think I would endanger our baby?"

"Ok, I'm doing this wrong," I say with a sigh, "Sam there is a Valentine's Day surprise waiting for you topside."

She smiles, and lets me led her to the surface.

**Sam**

Jack says he has a surprise for me. The surprise appears to be the fact that he stuffed my Volvo full of crap. Not getting the good part.

"Ah, Jack, are you cleaning house?"

He stares at me open mouthed, "No, I packed."

"You did?" I ask with a quirked eyebrow.

"We have leave. We're going on a trip."

"Are we?"

"For crying out loud Sam! Grand gesture, romantic trip," he says waving his hands.

I smile at him, "Where is this romantic trip going to be too?"

"My cabin?" he asks uncertainly.

Now I've gone and destroyed his confidence, "Ok, just let me pack."

"I packed for you," he says proudly.

"Why?" I ask.

"It was supposed to be a surprise," he explains.

"Ok…just wrapping my head around the fact that I'm going to be traveling across the country today."

"We don't have to go…" he mutters.

"I want to," I assure him.

**Jack**

"I could seriously drive the whole way if I need to," I assure her.

"Pregnant Jack, not sick, not stupid. I'm going to help you drive across the freaking country."

I smile at her. "Grab that name book," she instructs.

I pick it up looking at her in surprise. "Look on the front flap. I picked five girls names. I want you to pick the winner. Then I want you to pick five boys names, and I'll pick the winner from there."

I grin. I love being wrong. "I noticed that you only circled girl's names. I thought it was because you couldn't picture our child being a boy. That…a boy wouldn't be ok. But…the only picking girl name things was including me in decisions about the kid."

She nods. "Jack… I'd be ok with a boy. Would you?"

Her question takes my breath away for a second.

"Sorry Jack," she mutters.

"I love the kid. Girl, boy, or twelve heads."

"If it has twelve heads it's going to be delivered c-section," she mutters.

"O'Neill's are famous for our large heads," I say with a laugh.

"Thank you for that Jack. Thank you for that." She pauses for a little bit. "Jack, and I showing?" she asks suddenly.

I don't know what the correct answer is here. In my experience when woman ask about their physical appearance there is only one correct answer. So I hedge trying to figure out what the right answer is. "What do mean?"

"I don't know…Just people have been looking at me a lot lately."

I laugh a little, "You do know that's because you're gorgeous. People are always looking at you."

A hand leaves the wheel and touches her stomach, "Right, but have I become gorgeous for a pregnant woman?"

"Sam, you look good. I know you're pregnant. So when I look at you. I see you, and I see the baby. I don't think other people can see it." I pause, "does it bother you if people are going to know?"

"I've wanted people to know for a long time Jack. I don't like them…guessing…gossiping."

Crap. Deep breath, "Sam, I wanted us to have time to get used to us."

"I know. I get that. I just…want to get the whole people being shocked stuff out of the way. We're having a baby, and I just want everything to be settled."

"Nothing will ever be settled at any one point in our lives, Sam. We're parents now. But you want to tell people we'll tell people as soon as we get back."

"We don't have to Jack…people will figure it out soon enough anyway.

"Sam, you're beautiful. When you're huge you'll still be beautiful."

**Sam**

"I'm going to check the ice on the lake, I'll be in a minute," Jack says. This area of the country is gorgeous. I've never seen anything like it. Jack's cabin is near a town called Ely. It tastes like a tourist town. At least it did when we drove through it. The trees in this area are beautiful. Strangely like a lot of the planets that we visited when I was on SG-1. He must feel at home every time he goes through the gate. I envy Jack. He still gets to go through the gate.

"You're checking out the frozen lake instead of carrying in the excessive amount of luggage?" I ask with raised eyebrows.

He smiles at me, "I'll get the bags Carter, you go look the place over."

I grab some bags anyway (the man defiantly overpacked), and head into the cabin. I open the door and sense something is wrong, though I can't for the life of me identify exactly what is setting me off. It's enough though, that that part of my brain is activated, before some grabs me from behind the door.

"Jack!" I scream at the top of my lungs. As he goes to cover my mouth I elbow him hard in the gut, and turn to face him. I always do a lot better in fights when I am facing my attacker. He's a man you can almost, but not quite call elderly. He's big, and was probably strong at some point. But he isn't now. He's been trained in fighting too. But I wouldn't be worried, except for the fact that fist fighting was most assuredly on the "don't do while pregnant" list.

He tries to grab both my arms at once. I move them out of the way, and give him a quick knee to the groin. I've got four limbs and a head mister, and you can't focus on all of them at once.

He's distracted by the pain, and I use that time to clothesline him, and knock him to the floor. As soon as he's down I roll him over, and pull both of his arms behind his body using my knee to pin him down. (See disclaimer at end of story.)

"Carter!" Jack exclaims running into the room. "You ok?"

He rushes over and replaces his knee with my own.

"Jack?" the guy on the floor asks.

"Dad?" Jack says in shock letting him up.

The guys eyes are huge, "I didn't know…I mean I thought she was a robber."

"Jeez dad, you beat up a pregnant woman!"

"She's pregnant?" he asks in shock.

"He didn't beat me up," I protest at the same time.

"Told you, you weren't showing," he grin to me.

"Girls right, I couldn't even touch her. Some fight in that wife of yours Johnny boy," he says with a grin.

"Not married," he mutters.

Jack's father-what is his name? looks confused, "Your mom sent me a wedding invitation a few years back, I just assumed…"

"Ah…Sara…we did get married, and divorced, and this is Sam."

"Nice to meet you," he says offering a hand, "I'm Bill. Sorry about the greeting."

"It's ok," I tell him.

"You are ok, right?" Jack asks concerned.

I nod. Jack turns his attention back to his father. "So, you come up to Gramp's cabin often?"

The guy shifts uncomfortably, and I've already pieced together what's going on. But Jack is not there yet. Probably won't be until it's spelled out. But I had the benefit of seeing (and smelling) Bill before I knew who he was. Between his former military career, the complete lack of hygiene, and the crappy quality of his belongings spattered all over the room I'm guessing we're looking at a down-on-his-luck veteran squatting on property belonging to his estranged families. Also guessing that depression runs in Jack's family. Poor Broca.

"Ah…I figured you'd own it by now Jack," Bill mutters. Suddenly a thought occurs to him, "Valentine's weekend. I'll get out of your way."

"No," Jack says grabbing his arm, "Stay. It's been…years. Unless…I mean I can understand if you'd rather leave."

Bill looks confused, "I want to be with you, I always wanted to be with you."

Jack is pissed. I can tell he's doing that self edit thing when a really inappropriate comment almost comes out of his mouth, but he stops it just in time. Except right now he's so angry nothing makes it past the filter.

"Dad, I haven't seen you since you left Mom."

He laughs. Jack looks more pissed. His eyes widen. "Holy crap Jack, you honestly think I abandoned your mother and you?"

"That's what it looked like from the kitchen window as you drove off."

Bill looks uncomfortable for a long moment. "Ellen is dead now, and you ain't 'sposed to speak ill of the dead."

Jack is silent, neither giving nor denying his father the right to bash his mother.

"I fought for you Jack. Joint custody at least. But the court woulda been nuts to give custody of a kid to a broken down soldier. Begged her to let me send you letters, Christmas gifts at least. But she was scared. Used to sleepwalk when the nightmares came on," he says and his eyes get a far off glossy look in them. "Ellen was right. Needed to protect you. She kept sending me stuff, whenever she could track down my address. Papers you wrote, video of a school play, copy of your diplomas, wedding invite. Let me know what you were doing. There around here someplace," he says looking at the disorganized house.

"You've got keepsakes here?" Jack says, and suddenly he gets it. Open mouth insert foot. "You know this cabin is basically yours."

Bill laughs, "Your grandfather was too wise to leave this place to his loser ex-son-in-law."

"Nope, he left it to his loser-grandson, who is telling his father he's welcome to it."

Bill shifts around, "I don't need charity."

But squatting was fine?

"It's not charity when you're family," Jack says.

Bill's eyes meet his son's. "I'll get out of your way, and give you a romantic weekend with your girlfriend."

"Please stay," I offer with a smile, "I'd like to get to know you. You are after all Broca's grandfather."

"Broca?" he asks with a facial expression which is undeniably Jack's.

"Temporary name, dad," Jack says. Jack bites his lip, "when I turned eighteen…the law couldn't stop you then."

"Hell kid, by then I hadn't been your father for almost a decade. I didn't know you anymore. What would you have said if I just showed up at your door?"

"I would have invited you in, and offered you a beer. Which is exactly what I plan to do as soon as I get the groceries from the car."

"You brought food?" I ask somewhat excited. So maybe all the crap in my Volvo is actually necessary.

"Ye of little faith, Carter, ye of little faith."

It turns out Bill is very much like his son. They don't talk much. So we have dinner a rather amazing homemade pizza (did I mention Jack can cook? only pizza, steaks, and potatoes, but what he does he does well), and neither of them says much. Certainly not anything important. No one talks about the fact that Jack's father is apparently homeless, or asks about whether he has a job or disability benefits, or whether he's seen a shrink, or if he's ok. Bill doesn't ask about the baby, or me, or what Jack's doing.

They discover they both love the Simpsons. Apparently Jack left a season of them out here last time he was up, and his dad's been watching them. They have an animated debate about whether or not Jack's uncle is like Bart. Jack was on the con side.

They also talk about the town, and the pond in back of the cabin, and in one moment of honesty they talk about a family trip back when they were still a family.

Then we all go to bed. I have a million questions to ask, and I don't know how to ask them.

**Jack**

I can see the wheels turning in Sam's head all night. I'm sure she's trying to figure out a way to substitute my half of the kid's DNA with someone sane. She's just smart enough that it might work. Although, she broke the toaster so I'm not going to let her operate on the kid.

But maybe she's getting an idea from my mom, get the kid away from the crazy one. Although, it didn't work, because I still ended up crazy. Hey, maybe I should point that out.

We go to bed pretty early, because we have plans to get up and go ice fishing in the morning. Or at least Dad and I do. I'm not sure if Sam is coming. I couldn't tell from the conversation. She's distracted. Probably by the fact that my whole family is crazy.

When we're both in bed she turns to me.

"Jack, what are we going to do?"

I don't know how to answer her, so I just sit in silence.

After a bit she prods, "Jack?"

"Up to you, Carter," I say trying to sound nonchalant, "I'd understand if you want to break up. But my mom tried that, and it didn't save me, so no guarantees."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

I'm glad for the darkness, because I'm starting to cry, and if I don't talk there is a good chance she'll never know.

"Jack I meant, what are we going to do about your Dad. How are we going to help him? I mean he oviously doesn't want us to help, but we need to do something. We could just let him keep living here, but he needs help. A psychologist, a job, something. Why would you think I'm breaking up with you?" she asks.

And she doesn't expect an answer. And she totally knew I was crying. And she wraps her arms around me, and pulls me to her. Getting my head into the crook of her neck, and rubbing her back. Encouraging me to cry without pointing out the fact that I am crying. "Not going to leave you Jack. I'm not Sara, I'm not your mother, and I'm not going to leave you."

"Don't want to be pitied," I sob.

She pulls back and studies my face in the darkness, "That's not what this is about, Jack. I'm not staying, because I think you need me-I know you don't, though you do need access to your kid. I'm not staying, because I feel obligated to, we don't owe each other anything. I'm not staying, because I feel sorry for you. I'm staying, because I…" she pauses. We exchanged the 'I love you's' once, but I'm pretty sure hers was an accident, "love you Jack."

"I don't deserve you," I whisper leaning against the side of her face.

I feel her cheeks turn up the way they do when she is smiling, "You deserve more than you think you do."

"Love you, Sam," I whisper suddenly, without even knowing I was going to say it. She rolls on top of me, and bless the pregnancy hormones apparently that declaration gets a reward.

**Sam**

We've been in the ice house since two hours before dawn. I'm too tired to prod the conversation along, and left to their own devices Jack and his father have only managed a comment about the sunset, and a grunt between them.

"Fish aren't biting today," Bill says. Then they both laugh like he just told some sort of a joke.

I'm really annoyed, and I've been trying to shove that down inside of me for a long time now, since apparently this is male bounding. Although they don't appear to be bounding, and they sure as hell aren't solving any problems.

"Do you have a toaster here?" I ask. Bill shakes his head.

"You ok Sam?" Jack asks concerned, "You have been nauseous in awhile."

"Fine," I mumble, "Just hungry." I stomp off to the cabin to see if Jack packed anything that resembles breakfast food.

He follows me into the cabin. I start throwing things out of cupboards onto the counter.

"Sam," he says. His voice stops me, and I turn to him, "What's wrong?"

"This is stupid. You too are sitting out there, not taking, not fixing anything."

He looks at me for a long time, "This isn't going to be fixed. We just need to…reacclimate to each other. It's going to take time."

"What are we going to do, he needs help, I worry about him."

"Sam, you try to fix everything, but…" Jack stops.

"I think we should invite him to live with us. Or get him help. He's depressed Jack. Way worse than you. He hasn't been bathing, hasn't been cleaning, I'm pretty sure he screamed in his sleep last night…"

"All good reasons not to invite him to live with us. Look, I thought I'd convince him to stay up here. Offer some help. Leave some money when we go…"

"I worry about him Jack. I want him close enough to check on."

"I know Carter, but he's not going to be ok by the time the baby comes. He's not. If he comes to Colorado with us. In our place, or another one, I guarantee he's going to make this nice little domestic life we've got going for our kid really messy really fast."

"He's family Jack."

Jack studies me for a little bit. "We'll have this discussion with him. Before we go. But not today. We need to readjust a little."

"I'd feel better if you were at least catching fish."

Jack laughs a little.

I raise an eyebrow.

Then he finds me worthy of the family secret. "There aren't any fish in that lake Carter."

I laugh.

"Now that you've massacred breakfast let's go out," he says gesturing toward the counter.

"Jack…" I start to protests.

"Ah…Carter," he interrupts, "there is a place in this town called 'Plump bun bakery' seems like a fitting place for a pregnant lady to get something toasted. Let's go get Dad."

I put my hands on my hips, "One day you tell me I'm not showing yet, and the next you're calling me a plump bun," I say pretending to be offended.

He links his arm around me pulling me close and whispering in my ear. He's the first one that ever figured out what an affect that has on me, and he takes advantage of it ALL the time. "You're definitely showing when you're naked," he whispers.

He always kisses my belly right before we fall asleep. Often since we've started sharing a room this is just after we've finished making love. Still untangling ourselves from each other, and he'll bow down and grace my naked belly with a kiss before pulling me into a snuggle. Jack is really an snuggler.

He bends down now, and gives my belly another kiss.

**Jack**

I think dad and I are getting along better than we ever did when I was a kid. I remember him being distracted a lot. Looking back it was probably depression. But as a kid it just looked like he was ignoring me. Then he left. Only he didn't leave. Mom kicked him out of my life. Pretty angry right now. But it's weird to be mad at a dead person. It's sort of hallow.

"So where do you work?" Dad asks Sam.

"Same place as Jack," she can tell from the startled expression on his face. Right, no idea where I work. I doubt he knows anything about me since my mother dies.

"Cheyenne Mountain, in Colorado Springs," she says.

"You're Air force then?" he asks her.

She nods. And neither of use miss the darkness in the eye when he said 'Air Force'.

"Dad did the Air Force…when did you leave?" I ask awkwardly trying to ask my real question. Do you need money? Are you ok?

"I left early," he mutters. So no fifteen year retirement.

"Dad, you could stay in the cabin…or come live with Sam and I."

"You live together?" he asks somewhat surprised. I nod. "I'm fine Jack."

Honest time. I hate it. I'm going to have to be even more honest with Dad than I was with Sam. She didn't get the depression thing, and he has to get what I'm really saying.

"Dad…I was a POW for a couple months. When I came back…I was…not functional. I didn't work I didn't do anything. Sara took care of me. Feed me, made me bathe, cleaned the house, and did the job that paid the bills. The Air Force was helping them. But I couldn't function right away. For a year after Charlie died," I say.

"Charlie?" Dad asks.

Suddenly I can't breathe. Deer in the headlights. Sam grips one of my hands in both of hers like it is a lifeline, "It's his son, Sir. Charlie is Jack's son, he died almost two years ago. He was ten."

I'll have to thank her later. Right now I can't talk.

"How did he die?" Dad asks.

"Accidently shot himself," she says.

She's leaving everything out.

"God, Jack," Dad says with sympathy.

Sympathy I don't deserve. "It was my gun," I mutter. Sam wraps an arm around me.

"Jack," Dad says still with sympathy.

"The point is," I say, because I can't talk about Charlie anymore, "everyone needs help. I want to give you help. That's what a family is."

"We haven't been family for a long time, Son," he says.

I contemplate arguing, but he is absolutely right. "We're family again, now, Dad."

"I might not get better. I've been like this a long time. It isn't temporary."

"That's ok too. No time limit. But you should do something to get help. I'm getting help."

"You are?" Sam asks turning to me. Is she mad? I thought she told me to do that. "Good Jack, good. When? McKenzie?"

"Not McKenzie, after Daniel…wasn't dead. Janet let me keep the medicine."

She grins at me, and bounces her head against my shoulder, in that trusting way she has.

"I'll try Jack," Dad says.

"Try here or try in Colorado Dad, you're welcome either place."

"Here Jack, and I'm not totally…messed up. I do…work. Not every day. I guide for people who want to canoe into boundary waters. And between that and the Air Force…I'm ok."

"Ok," I say, "but if you do ever need money for food or clothes, or…"that's right I'm going to say it, "soap, let me know. I'm willing to help out."

"Squatters rights is all I need son," he says.

"And phone calls from your family, right?" I ask, and my voice comes off much more insecurely than I mean it to.

"Yes son, mostly the phone calls."

Disclaimer: Pretty sure Sam doesn't fight like an Air Force trained person in this story. It's pretty "free self-defense class in the park" like. This coming from a person whose experience with fighting is seeing a sign advertising a free self defense class in the park. Also writing action is a real weakness of mine. Mostly, because I don't watch/read much action. But I want to learn to write it! So sorry you have to suffer though my first efforts.


	14. Hathor

**Sam**

Jack is making breakfast when I come out wearing a BDU shirt that didn't used to be this tight. I've switched over to maternity clothes which in baggy BDU's make me look decidedly LESS pregnant. But today I decided I was going to wear my pre-maternity clothes.

"Jack, how do I look?" I ask him.

His eyes bulge.

"So that means?" I ask pointingly.

He shifts awkwardly, "I personally think you look amazing Carter, but…people are definitely going to know you're pregnant if you wear that."

I grin, "That is the point," I say.

**Jack**

Sometimes the conversations you aren't supposed to hear are the most informative of all. I'm about to walk into Sam's office, and I pause when I hear her talking to Dr. Lee.

"Ah…Dr. Carter…I drew the short stick."

"What?" she asks.

"What I mean to say is are you pregnant?" There is a little pause, "I'm sorry…that was a totally inappropriate question to ask. And you look great…ah…really great."

Sam laughs, "Calm down Bill I am pregnant."

The sigh of relief almost knocks me over in the hall, "Congratulations…ah…the other part of the short sticks was to ask you…ah…"

"Who the father is?" Sam prompts.

"It's none of our business, but we just wanted to know…if he isn't in the picture…we'd be there for you Samantha."

"Thank you Bill, I appreciate it. But the father is definitely in the picture," Sam says. That sounds like my cue.

I walk up to her, and give her a kiss on the check. We are usually so against PDA's at work. Of course the Air Force is also against PDA's at work. But I figured this was special circumstances. I hand her the tray of food I brought.

"Lunch time already?" she asks glancing at her watch. The watch is telling her that it is only ten o'clock, far from lunch time.

"Small frequent meals, right?" I ask. She was just telling me that the books said that is what you were supposed to have last night. Pretty sure she didn't think I was listening when she said that.

"And you do look gorgeous," I tell her. I know that she wore that outfit to purposely tell people she was pregnant, but I bet she's still feeling fat and insecure in it.

**Jack Later**

Someone tried to break into the base. That isn't that unusual, what is unusual is that she knew about the Stargate. Daniel, Jack, the General, and I are heading over to meet this person.

She has red hair which falls to her shoulders and is weirdly shinny, although frizzled. She's wearing a trenchcoat that is way too big for her, wrapped tightly around her waist and she is facing away from us.

"Ma'am. I'm General Hammond, U.S. Air Force," General Hammond informs her.

"Yes?" the woman says turning toward us, but looking disinterested.

"And you are?" Hammond prompts.

"We are Hathor," ok, referring to yourself in the plural is never particularly good sign. She struggles a little with her arms which are tied up behind her, "You would be wise to unbind us, and kneel before your goddess."

"Helll-o," I say.

"Hathor?" Daniel asks.

"Yes," she says.

"Have you heard of her?" I ask Daniel.

"Hathor was the Egyptian goddess of fertility, inebriety and music," Daniel offers.

"Sex, drugs and rock and roll?" I sum up.

Daniel does a long pause thing that he does whenever he is really annoyed with me, "In a manner of speaking, yes." Then he asks Hammond, "Um, are the cuffs absolutely necessary?"

I give a glance to Hammond. But he raises his hand toward Hathor. He's trusting Daniel. We have to trust one another in this job.

"I'm surprised they didn't chain her to the bed too. What's she going to do, beat us up?" as he undoes the handcuffs. He should know that woman can kick ass. He's met Sam right? And he's not that good in a physical fight. I actually know a lot of woman who could beat Daniel up. Most women could beat Daniel up. He unties her handcuffs, "Sorry about that," he tells her.

"Thank you. Your efforts shall not go unrewarded," he says. She takes his hand bringing it up to her mouth. She does a weird kiss thing to his hand.

"So, Ms Hathor. Would you mind telling us why exactly you were trying to get into this facility?" Hammond insists.

"We were drawn to the Chapa'ai," she says like that's an explanation.

"Chapa'ai?" I repeat to her. Then I turn to Daniel, "That's what your monk buddies on Chulak call the Stargate."

Daniel looks dazed, and seems to be startled by my voice, "Um, yes. It's also Abydonian and ancient Egyptian.

"What I want to know is what makes you think it's here, Ma'am?" the General says formally.

"We were drawn to it," he says obviously annoyed.

"We?" I repeat. Yep, this girl is most assuredly crazy.

"Where is Ra?" she asks Daniel.

"Ra is…" Daniel begins. That boy is way too trusting, but you hate to discourage the trust. The world is a nasty enough place, I hate to take the few beautiful things out of it.

"Dr Jackson. Need to know," Hammond cautions.

"Ra…Ra is a myth. He doesn't actually exist," Daniel says.

"Miss…Hathor. What made you think this Chapa'Ai was here?" I ask.

"The Chapa'Ai was what gave power to our father, and our husband," she explains.

"Who's she talking about, Dr Jackson?" the General asks.

"Ummm, Hathor was both the daughter and wife of Ra in Egyptian mythology. Until Ra was said to have corrupted her," Daniel explains.

"We were not corrupted," Hathor says angrily as if she really was an ancient goddess.

"Of course. No disrespect intended," Daniel pacifies her.

"We are the mother of all pharaohs," she says haughtily.

"Of course we are. General? Why don't we call county mental health and see if we can find a nice little rubber room for the lady?" I ask.

"Crazy or not, I want to know what she knows. Dr Jackson, talk to her. See what you can find out. But don't tell her anything she doesn't already know," Hammond says with the voice of authority toward Daniel.

"Okay," Daniel says.

"You—with the crown of marble," Hathor says as we turn to leave the room.

I look at Hammond. Suddenly I wonder if he's sensitive about his lack of hair, judging from his face it doesn't look like it, "She might mean you, sir."

"You are the ruler here?" she asks.

"Yes, ma'am," he says.

"May we take your hand?" she asks.

"Why?" Hammond asks suspiciously.

"We wish to kiss it. To bless you with fertility and joy."

I bite back a laugh, "Well, you can't pass that up sir."

Hammond's voice is really annoyed. Might be about the bald comment after all, "Yes, I can."

"Sir, it might help me if you play into her delusions. Just to keep her talking."

The General looks at me, and I shrug. He goes over to her, and she takes his hand in hers for a long kiss.

**Jack Later**

"She a Gua'uld, sir," Daniel proclaims.

"What?" Siler asks in shock.

"How is she a Goa'uld?" I ask.

"She could not have come through the Stargate. We would have been alerted," Teal'c points out.

"She's been imprisoned in stasis on Earth for almost two thousand years," Daniel says.

"Is…mental illness contagious?" I ask General Hammond.

"General Hammond, I think she is Hathor. Or at least the Goa'uld that took on the persona of Hathor," he says completely ignoring me.

"Back up. Did you say she's a Goa'uld?" Siler asks alarmed.

"Yes. She feels indebted to us for killing Ra, who she was trying to stop from enslaving Earth. See, she's always been a friend of humanity. See, that's how it was in the Book of the Dead. Hathor was a much-loved goddess," Daniel continues.

"Are you saying she wants to help us?" Hammond says in disbelief.

"Yes. She wants to help us defeat Apophis. And protect us from other, evil Goa'ulds," Daniel says.

"And you bought into all of this?" I ask in disbelief.

"General, I'd like permission to have Hathor come down here and debrief us."

"Whoa, Danny!" I say in shock, "I don't think so."

"General," Daniel says moving in front of Hammond, "I think you sense what I do. Hathor is a friend."

Daniel stares into Hammonds eyes for a long second, and it looks a little like a challenge, "Yes, I do believe that. Bring her down."

"Are you kidding?" Siler asks in disbelief.

"Whoa, General," I pipe up.

"Colonel!" Hammond barks at me. Ok, usually he tolerates my sarcastic or childish comments much better than that.

"Sir, are you sure?" I ask with a squint of my eye.

"Yes, Colonel."

Teal'c moves across the room so he is standing right in front of the General.

"General. I have served the Goa'uld. I have yet to meet a good one."

"Maybe that's because you served the wrong one," I suddenly have the urge to check the back of the General's neck, because that sounded much more like the kind of comment I would expect to come out of a Gau'uld than a human.

Hathor makes a showy dissent of the spiral staircase, and I find myself wondering if she was in earshot for the whole conversation, "We thank you for allowing us in your court," she says to Hammond.

He gives her a smile which is just a little too real for my tastes, "You're welcome."

"We would appreciate a drink from your water," she says.

"Colonel?" he prompts.

"General?" I ask hoping he's going to ask me too throw her back into the holding cell.

"Colonel, water for the lady," she says giving Hathor a grin.

Ok, so now I'm a servant? "Ah! Yes, of course," I pour the water, and hand it to her.

"You are the one who is responsible for destroying the vile one, Ra," she says. Now she's trying to charm me. I'm honored that I'm considered worth of her trying to turn me onto psycho team Hathor, but it's so not going to work.

"I would be the one."

"For you, we will forever hold a special place, here," she says taking her hand and placing it way closer to her breast than I'm comfortable with. Not that I'm opposed to breasts of course, but there is only one set I want to be that close to.

"Well that's very special. Thank you."

I try to pull my hand away from her, but she grabs it and lifts it to her mouth. She breathes a pink mist out on me. Suddenly my mind is cloudy. I was trained to resist mind control techniques, but I don't think that is what is helping me right now. I mean they didn't really have a section on pink mists breathed out by aliens. The mist steams to make you only think about Hathor. But somehow in my mind Hathor is getting all missed up with Sam. She can't take complete control of me, because Sam is still there.

I can hear that Teal'c and Hathor are having a conversation, but I can't quite pick up on what they are saying.

**Sam**

When they tell me that there is a Gau'uld staying unsecured in the VIP quarters I don't believe them. I think it is a strange joke. Then I start to hear some rumors about guys being under a spell. Guys doing anything the decidedly female Gou'auld asks them to do. And I hear that one of these guys is Jack.

"Colonel, there you are," I say as I catch him in the corridors. He falls into step next to me.

"Here I am, Captain," he says carelessly. We've kept to formal titles up at work, but usually there is more to the word than there used to be. Like he calls me "Capain", but in the tone he calls me "Samantha" at home. But this "Captain", it's impersonal, professional, and maybe a bit cold.

"I wanted to have a word with you, sir, about Hathor, if you don't mind."

"Ah, you've heard about the fascinating lady, then?"

Is it just the pregnancy hormones that make me feel ever so slightly like I want to cry?

"A little too fascinating, don't you think?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, sir. She seems to have you all so…infatuated," I say. I'm just going off of rumors, and I know how unreliable they can be. The scary thing is that Jack is not denying anything.

"Us all?"

"Yes, sir. The men. Don't you think it's a little dangerous to be giving a Goa'uld such royal treatment?"

"Ah, relax Captain. She's on our side."

"So she says."

He looks at me in annoyance, "Captain, if you don't mind my saying so, you're treating her exactly the way you hate to see people treat Teal'c. A bit of a double standard, don't you think?"

"Teal'c has proven who's side he's on. She hasn't."

"Carter, have you ever heard the old saying: 'My enemy's enemy is my friend'?"

"Yes, sir. But even when the CIA grants sanctuary to an enemy turncoat, they never trust him. They watch him like a hawk."

"Daniel's watching her right now," he says giving me a dismissive pat on the shoulder. Right, like a fox watches a hen house. I glance at where he touched me on the shoulder. That didn't quite feel like Jack.

**Janet**

Sam is telling me about the history of the goddess Hathor, "According to the stories, this woman had magical powers over men. She was supposed to be able to seduce them into doing anything for her. In almost every case, it describes them as 'drunk with her presence'."

"Well, that would be how I'd describe our boys," I say. I've been really worried about what was going on in the base.

"Yeah, Now, I figure she's using some form of Goa'uld technology. Any ideas?"

"My guess would be some sort of chemical we've never seen. A…a sort of super pheromones combined with something like sodium pentathol, probably airborne delivery."

"Great. How do we reverse it in the men?"

"Oh, it may not be reversible. And if it is, it may take years."

"We probably don't even have days before this Goa'uld does whatever it is she's trying to do."

"So what do you suggest, Captain?"

"I suggest we neutralize her," she insists. Great, but how are we going to do this? I haven't touched a gun in all the years that have flown by since basic training, she's five months pregnant, and the man on this base really and truly outnumber the women.

**Sam**

I pull weapons out, and hand them to my makeshift crew. I have Janet Frasier, a gate tech, and three SF's.

"Okay, here's what we know. This creature, who calls herself Hathor, is admittedly a Goa'uld, or some form of Goa'uld. So she has who knows what kinds of weapons or defenses. That means it might take a lot of firepower to neutralize her and we need to come at her from multiple flanks," I brief them. "You know how to use this, don't you?" I ask Janet.

Her voice sounds very uncertain, "Well, yeah. I've had some training, but I haven't touched one of these in years."

"Well, don't worry. All you do is point and pull the trigger and be careful not to hurt any of our own men. They're all pretty loopy right now, so that shouldn't be a problem."

Teal'c enters the room. "Captain Carter," he greets me. We whirl around, and point our weapons on him.

"We must speak of Hathor," he says.

"Keep your hands where I can see them Teal'c." It's hard to point a gun at a former teammate. Hard as in almost impossible. I don't know if I could do it to Jack. If I had to kill Jack to save the world could I? I know the answer, it's no. I couldn't kill Jonas to save another world, and I never loved him like I love Jack. So I'll just keep this to myself, and hope I am never put in a situation where I have to make the wrong choice, because I know I would.

"Do you not trust me, Captain Carter?" Teal'c says. There is no hurt in his voice. Even if I'd deeply wounded him his voice wouldn't reflect it.

"All of the men on this base are under Hathor's control, from what I can tell. And, I hate to break it to you Teal'c, but you are male."

"I am a Jaffa. The Goa'uld I carry within me protects me from Hathor's powers. It is only together that we may stop her," he explains.

It sounds like Teal'c might be on our side. If he is that is really good news, because he would have valuable intel on the threat.

"From doing what, exactly?"

"It is legend among the Jaffa that the original Goa'uld larvae come from the queen Goa'ulds."

My stomach sinks, "And you think Hathor's one of them?" Baby Goa'uld's just what we need.

"Yes. If I am correct, this base will become her nest. From here, she will populate your world with new Goa'uld. I cannot permit this to happen. Captain Carter, we cannot permit this to happen."

I hand him a gun. "Glad you're with us, Teal'c."

I hurry down the corridor with the rest of my make-shift team behind me.

"Is this really necessary? I mean, somebody's bound to come on base and see what's going on," Dr. Fraiser protests.

I'd already thought through that. Seriously contemplated making a break for ground level and being a whistle blower. Some way that could keep my baby out of the fight. But I can't imagine the world coming out of that human.

"Yeah, and if they're male, they'll be under Hathor's control before they can think about it. Besides, when was the last time you saw a new woman get assigned here?"

I kick the door to the VIP room she's supposed to be staying in open. I give the room a quick once over. It is a mess. A lamp is tipped over, and the beddings on the floor. The only living thing in the room is Daniel. He is sitting on the end of the bed with a dazed and traumatized look on his face.

" Daniel? You okay? Where is she, Daniel?"

One of the airmen helping me fight Hathor pokes her head into the room, "Captain, we found her. She was spotted going into the locker room."

"All right, let's go," I say. I take another look at Daniel, "Daniel, you okay?" his face reminds me of Jack in his absolute worst moments. Like right after he wakes up from a dream about Charlie. When he's screaming like it all just happened. I'm worried about what has just happened to Daniel. I'm worried about what Daniel might do if we leave him alone.

"Captain?" the voice from the door insists.

I don't really have a choice, we have to leave him. We walk down the hall. Janet might have downplayed her experience with guns, but she remembers the basics. She remembers how to come around corners prepared and to keep the guns moving when you don't know where the threat is.

We enter the locker room and see Hathor sitting in what looks to be a miniature makeshift hot tub. I take a step toward her. I'm not used to this kind of situation. I mean usually you don't just shoot someone. You have orders, and wait for them to engage first, and etc. etc. You don't just come up on someone sitting in the bath and open fire. It feels more like murder than war.

Her eyes open, "Ring'tel nok," Suddenly a crowd of our own men are around us. Some of them are pointing weapons at us, but most seem quite content with their role as Hathor's human shield. Jack and Hammond are the two standing most directly in front of them. I know I'm not going to be able to fire now.  
"Stand down, Captain Carter. Unless you plan to kill us," Hammond says

"Is this any way to treat a guest, Babe?" Jack asks. Babe? He's never once called me Babe. In fact, I know he's heard several rants on how much I hate that word. Ok, I don't actually know that he heard them, all I really know is that he was in the room with me when they occurred. Come to think of it most of the time I was talking about how much I hated the nickname Babe he was watching ten year old hockey tapes. Of course, that's what he was doing when I told him I was worried I wasn't following the book's recommendation of eating small frequent meals. He could very well be giving me a clue.

I put the weapons down.

**Janet**

The cell door clinks shut.

"It must be a pretty powerful drug Hathor's using. Jack is Special Forces trained to fight mind control techniques."

She sounds like she doesn't quite believe he is compromised. That isn't a good sign. We can't have her uncertain about whose side people are on, "Well, not Goa'uld techniques, apparently."

"Yup. Well, Mama said there'd be days like this."

"Really? My ex-husband said that," I say trying to imitate my husband's accent, "'You outa your mind, honey-buns? There is a reason they call it this man's Army'.

"'This man's Army'? Your husband actually said that?" Sam says in disbelief.

"Yeah, so of course I explained to him that it wasn't the Army, it was the Air Force, and they've had women for decades," I say sarcastically.

Sam shakes her head, and gripes, "Man. I think maybe it's just me, but I can't figure out how feel like one of the guys with these guys, you know what I mean? I always feel like I'm The Girl."

The girl? That could actually work to our advantage, "That's it."

"What?"

"You just gave me an idea on how to get us out of here. Look, if Hathor's control drug is hormone-driven like I suspect, that means she's making the men…libidinous."

Sam crumples up her face, "Okay. Why do I get the feeling I don't like where this is going?"

**Sam**

I can't believe Janet talked me into this. I'm still not sure I'm actually going to be able to do it.

"You know, using seduction wasn't in any of the AF Training manuals I ever read," I complain.

"What? You think the Pentagon anticipated a 4,000 year old alien walking onto a base and drugging all the men to make them…" Janet begins.

"Libidinous?" I offer using her own word.

"Yeah," she says nearly blushing at the words.

"I suppose they do train us to take advantage of the enemy's weakness."

"Exactly," she with a precise turn in her voice.

I give her a reluctant smile, "All right, let's do it."

"Airman, open up! We've got something for you," Janet says banging on the door.

"What?" a male voice says from the other end of the door.

"Why don't you come in here and see for yourself?" she says in an alluring voice.

"No can do. We only take orders from Hathor," the man says casually.

"Gentlemen, there are five women in here," her voice gets saucier "very alone."

"Why do I feel like I'm in a women behind bars movie?" I say in exasperation.

Fraiser walks further into the cell, probably to throw them off. Someone who wants to escape wouldn't go farther into the building.

"What are you suggesting, ladies?" the guard says.

"Whatever you want, Airman," Fraiser says. The guard waves his friends into the room before he bends over to kiss Janet. I grab the face of one of the men entering the room, and smile at him. Then I elbow him in his head.

I look up to see if he went down and see Jack's face. Crap. His arms are extended in a way that implies he had a hand in the Airman going down.

"Carter what the hell are you doing?"

"Escaping, Sir," I reply.

"Next time could you maybe do it in a way that doesn't require kissing other men?"

"Are you…you?" I ask.

"Yeah," he says with a shrug of his shoulders, "I don't normally call you 'babe' do I?"

"How can I be sure?" I ask.

"You can be sure by getting your ass out of this mountain and getting some back up while we," he nods to the woman in the room, "go fight Hathor."

"So the special forces training in resisting mind control works?" I ask.

He shakes his head, "No, but thinking about you sure did. Not get my baby off this base," he says giving me a light push toward the elevators.

"How are you going to fight them, Sir?" I ask.

"Tranquilizer guns."

"I thought of that, sir. But there weren't any in the armory."

"This is the military, Captain. We always have more than we need. There's a supply in lockup C."

"It'd be nice if someone told me that."

"Your tax dollar at work."

**Jack**

Sam is on her way off the base. I framed the request as me asking for help. I made it seem like it was all about keep the baby safe. But I discover for the first time that I want Sam as far away from danger as I can have her. Every moment of the day.

"Hold it right there, ladies" and Airman commands pointing a gun on two of our make-shift team. Another member of the team comes up behind him and smacks him in the back of the neck with the butt her P90 making him unconscious.

Then Hammond's voice commands, "Drop your weapon!" I smack him in the back of the head. I stare down at him for a moment wondering about the morality of what I have just done.

"Sir?" Janet asks.

"Let's go," I tell her.

We enter the locker room. The hot top is squealing with larvae Goa'uld. I really hate these things. Hathor is alone in the room, so I take a shot at her. The second tranquilizer dart sinks into her neck.

She raises the ribbon device, and a wall of energy hits me. But she goes down sinking into the hot hub. Since none of our men seem to have been affected I start shooting into the hot top which causes the whole place to go up in flame. A few of the tiny worms falls out of the hot tub, and burst into flame.

Suddenly I hear a voice blaring, "Unauthorized Gate activation. All hands to the Gate room. Unauthorized Gate activation."

I race to the Gate room just in time to see Hathor disappear through the event horizon .

"Where did she go?" I ask one of the woman on my temporary team.

"Chulak."

"Hey. What's going on? I must have…blacked out," Daniel says walking up behind me.

**Sam**

My rescue team went down over an hour ago, and no one has come up yet. I'm terrified that even though it was an all female team they might have someone ended up compromised.

Finally someone come out, and it's Jack.

I run up to him, and wrap myself around him. I really do want to detach, and be professional, but I was pretty close to accepting his death.

"It's ok, Carter," he says rubbing my back.

"Everyone ok?" I ask with concern.

"Yeah…well, Daniel isn't ok. He was…apparently….well he said Hathor's ahh larva had his DNA."

"She raped him?" I ask.

Jack looks awkward, "Look Carter, I didn't ask a lot of questions."

"Where is he?"

"The infirmary, look, I don't think he remembers it. Those who were under her spell don't appear to remember anything after she went through the gate."

"She got away?"

He nods.

"Everyone else is ok?" I ask.

"Ah, Teal'c has a little damage, but you know how he heals, and Janet's arm is pretty beat up. But she'll be alright."

I fidget.

He smiles, "When I told you to leave the mountain, I kinda though you'd you know leave the base. Go home. Be safe."

"I got you help, and then…"

"Waited for the alien to come a slay you?" he asks.

"Jack…" I say leaning close to him. "It's ok," he says pulling me into a hug. Suddenly I feel something like soda bubbles within me.

I pull back, and look at him with a grin.

"What?" he asks.

"Broca moved."

"Yeah?" he says grinning.

"Broca likes Daddy."

"Broca is going to have a new name soon," he says.

"Yeah, we find out gender tomorrow…assuming Janet won't be too busy…"

"No, we're still on, I asked," he says, "You got the boy name picked out? Cause I got the girl name picked."

I nod.

"And you want to go check on Daniel."

"Yes, please," I say. He places his hand on the small of my back, and we walk back into the SGC.


	15. Singularity

**Jack**

I was actually pretty excited to see this eclipse. Not many people know that I'm an astronomy nerd. I'll never forget when Sam found out about it. We've been living together for about a week, and I hear her voice calling me, and sounding a little frantic.

I open up the window, and call to her, and she comes out to sit with me on the roof.

"What'cha doing out here?" she asks.

"Trying to see the planet I've just visited."

She squints at me, "Most planets you visit through the stargate are not visible to the naked eye."

"1.4 light years is within visual range, even without the telescope."

"You have a telescope?" she'd asked. She rushed over to it. I think I've pretty much lost her for the night, when she pulls away and says, "There is P3X-589." Then she'd tilted her head at me, and said, "You're smarter than you like people to know.'

This morning when I left for work, she was so jealous she practically saw green. I get to see an accretion disk, and she's grounded by Serendipity. Yep, my DAUGHER's name is Serendipity. Still debating the middle name though. It will either be Dorothy or Broca. Strangely, I'm arguing for Dorothy while Sam wants Broca. Five months ago, she hated that name. *

**Cassie**

Four strangers are walking. They are wearing strange yellow suits. Only one of them does not wear this strange suit. He is wearing clothing like the strangers who came before.

One of them moves close, and puts a red piece of paper on my mother. I snatch it from her arm. I shouldn't have reached out of the bushes. One of them sees me and says, "Hello? Hello, it's okay. You can come out. Look, I know I must look pretty scary in the mask, but I'm not going to hurt you. It's okay."

"Show 'em your face," a man says to the one without the suit, "Try to look friendly," he instructs.

The large man makes his way into the bushes. He has none of the wounds that people get just before they die, "We will not hurt you. Please come out." He extends his hand through the bushes, "Take my hand." I put the edge of my hand in his. He smiles. It's not what you would call a normal smile, but it definitely shows that he isn't mean. "It is okay."

**Jack**

The little girl is sitting up on the examination table. She hasn't made a facial expression since we found her, and that worries me.

"It's okay. Everything's going to be fine. You feel like telling me your name now? No? My name is Jack."

She picks up the tag that Siler put on the dead woman. She clips it onto her clothes.

I grab a sticker and a sharpie and write, "Jack." I attach it to my shirt. "See, live people have name tags, and you are a living person."

She nods her head gravely, and takes the marker from me. She writes, "Cassandra," on the sticker and attaches it to her shirt.

"Cassandra? Beautiful name. You know she was a queen?"

The little girl shakes her head.

"Yeah, a really brave one, fought a sea dragon and everything." Ok, so she didn't so much fight a sea dragon as argue that her daughter shouldn't be sacrificed to one, and her name was Cassiopeia, but right now, I figure it doesn't matter. Brave queen is something she can use right now.

"This can't be," Fraiser mutters from the other end of the room.

I walk across the room so Cassie doesn't hear this conversation, "She's infected, isn't she?"

"No, she's not," I breathe a huge sigh of relief.

"Well, what's wrong with her?"

"There are traces of the element the Stargate is made of in her blood."

"What? Isn't that a metal? And aren't metals dangerous in your blood?"

"Not necessarily. We need small amounts of many kinds of metals. And it is possible that's the reason she was able to resist the infection."

We walk out into the hall where Teal'c and Daniel are waiting like 1950's fathers in a maternity ward. They're cowards to not come in with the kid, "Well, I have some bad news. The samples my team collected show the entire area to be contaminated. It's in the water and the ground. Now, the bacteria doesn't seem to be airborne, but it has the unique ability to survive in a variety of environments."

"Listen, um…I hate to sound self-centered here, but…" Daniel stammers.

"Your tests are fine," Fraiser assures him.

"What of the girl?" Teal'c asks with the concern of a guy who has a kid.

"No sign of infection and as a precaution I did an ultrasound to make sure she wasn't parasitically infested with a Goa'uld," Fraiser says.

"So, she goes back with us," I say wanting confirmation. I've wanted to take the girl home since I first saw her. And by home I don't just mean earth, I mean home home, and I don't know how Sam is going to feel about that impulse.

"Doctor, we updated the SGC on our situation, and Major Carter requested we stay here for a couple more days. The eclipse happens in less than one day. This is our only opportunity to use this window of darkness to photograph the black hole with this telescope. It could change the course of human history. I don't want to belittle what's happened here, but if we just pack up and leave, SG-7 and all these people will have died for nothing."

Cassie grabs onto my arm, hiding behind my back, and peeking out at the rest of my team.

"Well, I won't be staying."

"I will remain. I am not at risk," Teal'c says.

"Yeah, I'll stay too," Siler says.

**Cassie**

Jack and his friend Daniel are each holding onto one of my hands. All three of us are wearing the special space suits.

"Hey, you okay? Don't be afraid, I'll be holding your hand the whole way, all right? I know it looks kinda scary, but it's really a lot of fun," Jack assures me, "On three. One, two, three."

We go through the sidewise pool of water. It makes my tummy hurt, my head spin, and my eyes water. But the journey only seems to take a couple of seconds. When we are on the other side I hear a voice that is much too loud, and has a strange quality to it say, "Level one decontamination complete. Proceed with level two."

"Hey, it's okay, okay. It wasn't so bad, was it?" Jack asks bending down on one knee as he takes off my helmet. He takes me through a lot of gray hallways until we get to a small room. It is the same shade of gray the rest of their buildings are. I have yet to see a window. There is nothing in this room but a bed, a light that does not come from the sun and empty shelves.

"Well, here we are. I know it isn't much….we'll make it better….Sam will make it better."

I raise an eyebrow for him.

"Sam…she's my…she's amazing," he offers with a shrug.

"I have to go somewhere for a little while. But I promise you I won't be gone long, okay?" he tells me.

I grab onto his arm, and clutch him tightly.

"No, I…I have to go. But I'll be able to see you the whole time through that camera up there, see?" he says pointing at the camera, but I don't let go of his hand.

"All right. I'll stay for a little while," he says sitting down next to me. I scoot closer to him, and he puts a hand around my shoulder.

**Sam**

"Ah, Sam…I'm not going to be coming home for a couple days," Jack says over the phone.

I let out a long sigh. "What is the reason? Sick, injured, or stranded?"

"Ah…it's a girl," he says.

What the hell? I am silent for a little bit as I try to process this.

Suddenly he bursts out laughing, "No, like a little girl. She's probably about twelve."

Well, that's certainly better than I thought, but it still doesn't make a whole lot of sense. So I just stay silent, hoping he is going to explain it to me.

"We were on a planet, and she's the only survivor of this disease, and…"

"Is she infected?" I interrupt.

"No."

"Are you?" I ask.

He laughs a little, "You're a mom already, asking about the kid first, even when it wasn't your kid. I'm fine, Sam."

"So you're not coming home, because…" I prompt.

"She's…taken to me. I don't know why, but she doesn't want me to leave the room…so…"

My stomach clenches in fear, "Jack," I say, "We can't…I'm seven months pregnant. I finally feel like I'm ready for this kid. I'm not ready for a twelve year old."

"I wasn't asking, Carter," he says, but he does sound disappointed. "But they've got her in officer quarters."

"What? A kid? Those places…they're so plain!" I exclaim.

"Yeah, I was kind of hoping you could help with that. The Air Force will pay, but they were looking for a volunteer to do the shopping."

"Yeah, no problem, I'll go now," I tell him.

"Ah…Carter? Get some crayons, and paper, and stuffed animals, and…well, you probably know what twelve year old girls like better than I do."

"Actually, when I was a twelve year old girl I was very into telescopes."

"Well, she can wait until she gets…I mean maybe sometime she can come over and see that," he says.

"I'll be there soon, Sir," I say.

I don't miss the little slip. He almost called our house the little girl's home. Probably thought it was until I said something. He mentioned he wanted another kid before. He probably thought this would be the way to get there. I never said no, I just said I didn't want to be pregnant again.

It wasn't that, not completely. Maybe someday I would want another kid. But right now I am pretty sure I am going to screw this one up, and I'd like to keep my path of destruction as small as possible.

Better to screw up one than two. Especially, since this one already has her life pretty screwed up. Her parents died, in a global apocalypse.

"Jack…what's her favorite color?"

He pauses, "Hard to tell. What's your favorite color Sweetie?" I hear him ask. "Well," he says after a pause, "we can eliminate anything in this room so no white or gray."

"Why wouldn't she just tell you?" I ask concerned.

"She…ah…hasn't talked yet."

"What?"

"Trauma," he mutters.

**Sam-Later**

The little girl doesn't even look up as I walk into the room. She's sitting sideways from me, and I'm pretty sure I walked in quietly enough that she didn't even hear me.

"Don't you want this?" Jack prompts squirting ketch-up and mustard onto a hot dog with a bun, "See, we usually put some stuff on it, like this," he says taking an exaggerated bite out of it, "See? Mmmm."

The kid takes a nibble from the hot dog and hides it in her arm.

"Hey," I say.

She looks up startled, Jack looks up and smiles. "Hi, Sam."

She grabs a marker and one of the stickers Janet uses on her files. She writes "Sam" on it, and sticks it on me.

"Yeah, I'm Sam," I say, although I'm pretty sure there is more to this than I'm getting.

The kid grabs another label and writes "baby" on it, she sticks it on my belly, and then gives Jack a questioning look.

"Yeah, Sam's going to have my baby in a few months. We've named her already, Serendipity." The girl grabs a marker, and tries to write the name on a sticker. She gets stuck and hands them to Jack. He spells it out loud as he writes it.

I notice the girl is wearing a sticker that says Cassie. Cassie sticks that on my belly beneath the word, "baby."

Just then, Jack notices the bags, "Ah…Sam delivered the goods. Cassie."

"Well, just the first load, the rest is in the car," I say.

"Hey, Cassie, you wouldn't mind staying with Sam while I get the rest of the goodies would you?" Jack asks. The kid shakes her head.

"I can get it," I say.

"You're seven months pregnant, I can do the lifting," he says.

I nod. He ruffles her hair before he heads out of the room. I take the pink bedspread out of one of the bags. A huge smile covers her face. Ok, I picked the right color then. Next, I pull out the paint supplies and a stuffed animal. Her eyes light up, and right away I don't know what caused it. She takes the paints, and sits down.

I rub my belly absently, and the stickers get caught on my hand. She rushes over and smooths them back down. Ok, so for some reason these stickers are really important to this little girl. Maybe it's because she isn't talking, it's her way of communicating.

"So I hear you've gotten pretty attached to Jack," I offer. I'm quickly discovering that I don't really know how to talk to a kid, let alone a silent, grieving kid. Grieving, well I do get that.

"I lost my mom when I was…a few years older than you."

She looks up at me with big, sad, confused eyes.

"It was awful."

She nods.

I look down and notice what she is painting. She's only begun work on the project, but already I can tell there are a lot of dead bodies on the ground.

"Is one of them your mother?" I ask.

She nods, and points to one near the top of the painting. Then she begins to draw a little girl next to the dead bodies. She's even adding the detail of tears.

I pick up another brush and make a stick figure on each side of her.

"It's me, okay? And Jack. You're not alone anymore."

She takes the brush out of my hand again, and draws a large belly on the stick figure that is supposed to represent me.

"You calling me fat?" I tease.

She touches my stomach leaving a trail of paint on it. Fortunately, it's mostly on the label.

"Yeah, Serendipity is here too, you're not alone."

Just then, Jack walks an armful of bags, and she goes over to investigate.

**Jack**

"Carter, you should go home and sleep in a bed," I whisper from a chair over the sleeping head of Cassie. I'm not sure how the two of them are fitting in this tiny bed. Sam's so big that she and I are having trouble at home in a queen-sized bed, and here she is jammed into a twin with a little girl.

"You want the bed?" she whispers as she continues to wipe Cassie's hair from her face.

"No, I just think you should get some sleep," I insist.

Sam shifts her body, Cassie opens her eyes sleepily.

"Hey. How you feeling?" Sam asks. "Jack thinks I should go home. But you're not going to be alone. Jack is going to stay with you."

"Please don't go," the little girl whispers.

Sam's face breaks into a wide grin, "Well hello there, Cassandra, it's nice to hear your voice."

"I hurt," Cassie whispers.

"Where?" I ask standing up. Cassie taps her chest.

**Janet**

I'm glad Sam and Jack brought Cassie in. First of all, because I can already see by the way they act around each other that they are destined to be a family, and also because it isn't very often that I get to deliver good news, "Sounds good. No fluid in her lungs."

"She described it more like a sharp, stabbing pain." Sam protests.

"I have no idea of what to say or do. Her latest blood work shows a marked potassium deficiency. I have no idea what is causing it or how it got so low, so quickly, but one of the effects can be arrhythmia," I explain.

"You're sure she doesn't have the disease?" Jack asks critically.

"Uh-hm. Positive. These are not the symptoms of a bacterial infection."

"Okay, thank you," Sam says giving a smile first to me, and then to Cassie, "All right, let's go back to our room," Sam says as Jack lifts her off the examination table.

"Thank you," the little girl whispers, adorably polite.

"You are welcome."

They are almost out of the room when Cassie stops quite suddenly. Her arms cross over her chest, and she bends over a bit in pain.

"What? What? What is it?" Sam demands of her.

Cassie starts to fall backward. Sam bends to pick her up, but Jack does it before she has a chance. He gives her a quick disapproving shake of the head. I have to agree with Jack on this one. She's beyond the stage of pregnancy in which you should be lifting little kids. But there is no way you could have expected Sam to think of this in the middle of an emergency situation.

"Get her on the table!" I instruct.

Jack puts her down and Sam fiddles with her hair as he does it. I feel for her pulse.

"Oh my God. What is it? What's happening?" Sam asks totally panicked.

"She's got an irregular heartbeat. She's in arrest," I tell her. I yell a code blue into the intercom.

"What? What do I do?" Sam asks. That has to be awful. To be someone who is so often in control. So often fixing things, and be so completely unable to help.

I don't answer her, because I'm pretty sure she already knows the answer is nothing. I start CPR on the little girl's chest. It's been a long time since I thought about how to do CPR on a child. I've used my CPR enough to be sure, but always on fully grown airmen and women.

We take over trying to save the little girl. Sam and Jack both walk back to the edge of the room. Looking devastated, and panicked.

She's going to need a defib. I'm not the one doing it. I stand a little ways a way and beg her to keep fighting. It might be superstition that makes me do that, but I've seen superstition work so many times.

Her vital signs return to normal, and I listen to her heart to figure out what's going on. It's a strange whooshing sound.

"What is it?" Carter demands.

"I don't know. Listen," I say handing her the stethoscope.

**Jack**

I don't understand what is going on with Cassie. But I know it's bad. She had surgery. It didn't go well. Actually, I'm pretty sure we almost lost her. But the reason we almost lost her is some weird and complicated thing that belongs on a science fiction show.

Right now Sam is running some sort of experiment, because Cassie has something inside of her that resembles a bomb.

"Mom?" Cassie asks. I move over, and sit down on the bed next to her.

"Hey. You okay?"

"I was dreaming about my mom," she says.

I can imagine, after losing so much… "You miss your mom very much?" I ask.

She looks away, "I'm tired." Well, she avoids things like an O'Neill. But she isn't going to be an O'Neill. Hell, I don't even know if my own kid is going to be an O'Neill. Sam hasn't quite let me in on which last name we're going with. I'm going to be ok if she picks Carter. I mean…maybe we'll change it in a couple years anyway.

"Well, you should get some rest. Don't worry, everything's going to be just fine. And when you get better, I promise we'll see the stuff in these book and posters," I say gesturing around the room.

"All of them?" she asks excitedly.

I smile at her, "Well, all of them would be a pretty tall order. How about we just go with a lot of them?" I ask.

I want Cassie to be my daughter. God do I want Cassie to be my daughter. But I'm lucky to have one daughter. I mean Sam really could have left. She could be in DC right now. She could have cut me out of the kid's life. She could have had an abortion. We could have lost it. She might never have gotten pregnant at all.

I'm lucky to be getting to be a father again at all. I have to learn to stop pushing it. To be grateful for what I have.

**Jack**

Sam opens the door quietly. Cassie is sleeping again, and Sam gives me a hand wave that clearly means she wants me to join her in the hall.

"She's a bomb," Sam whispers.

"What?" I ask in complete and utter shock. "She's going to explode in one hour and fifty-two minutes."

"You can predict it that accurately?" I ask.

"The cellular decay of the tissue Dr. Warner sampled appears to be happening like clockwork," she replies.

"So that's a yes?" I ask.

She doesn't answer me, but just looks at the sleeping child as Cassie coughs in her sleep and says, "How could they do this?"

"I don't know," I reply honestly.

"I know I'm supposed to be detached," she says trying to hide her hears.

I look at her in surprise, "Don't apologize for the human part of you. Those who have lost it are not strong, just broken beyond use," I say.

She leans against me, "You're a good man Jack O'Neill."

**Sam**

I really want to go with them when they take Cassie to an abandoned nuclear facility. I don't know why I want to do it, because it sounds like a painful experience on the whole, but I do know that I want to.

I also know I can't, because Cassie probably isn't going to make it out of this alive, and Serendipity probably will. My daughter deserves life.

I also really want to say goodbye to Cassie, but there are two problems with this idea. First of she is unconscious, and second of all there isn't time for a goodbye.

"Take care of yourself Jack," I say as I ruffle her hair away from her face for what is probably the last time.

**Jack**

"Do you want me to do it, Jack?" Daniel asks with his glasses refracting his obvious concern until it bores into my soul.

"No that's okay," I say. The elevator door opens, and I walk into it still holding her. It closes behind us, and I suddenly feel so alone. Then Cassie moves, and her eyes slowly slit open.

"Where are we going?"

"Go back to sleep," I say like an order would make her obey.

"I'm not tired anymore," she tells me. I put her down and turn a little bit away from her hoping she isn't going to notice the fact that I am just barely holding back my tears.

"Are you crying?" she asks.

I shake my head gruffly, but I know if I tried to answer her with my voice, it would be painfully obvious I was telling a lie.

The elevator door opens at the final floor. I shine a flashlight into the darkness, but it really isn't enough light. Cassie is wrapped up in a blanket, and following me with almost too much trust. I open a big wheel-like door lock. A light automatically flicks on, and I lead Cassie over to a little bit of concrete coming out of the wall with no obvious purpose in mind.

"Sit down here and rest for a while, okay? I have to go," I tell her.

"Sam promised you'd never leave me alone," she says sounding genuinely confused.

"I'll be back, okay? I'll be back," I say fiddling with her hair in a way very much like Carter does. "I have to close the door," I tell her.

She takes the nametag off her shirt, and she hands it to me.

"No," I say shaking my head and trying to give it back to her, but she doesn't believe me, and suddenly I need that nametag more than anything in the world so I take it in my closed fist.

I walk out of the room and swing the door shut. As it slams shut, I hear an uncertain, "Jack?" from the other end of the door. I swing the wheel around to lock the door as a few more calls of 'Jack?' come though muffled, but increasingly frantic. I take off in a run for the elevator. I have enough time that I don't have to run, but I need to run just for my sanity's sake. I slam against the wall hard enough that I know I'll have a bruise.

Suddenly a thought occurs to me. I'm not living through the death of another child. I don't think she is going to die, but I am definitely not leaving her.

I turn and come back into the room.

"Jack, what's going on?" Daniel asks over the loudspeaker.

"I'm staying," I tell him.

"Ah, no," Daniel says.

"She's awake, Daniel," I tell him.

I hear a muffled, "Oh, God."

I close the door behind me, because I am not going to endanger anyone's life but my own.

"Are we going to die?" Cassie asks.

"No, we are not going to die," I assure her taking the sticker and putting it onto her chest.

"I love you," Cassie whispers.

"I love you too sweet heart," I tell her.

I glance at my watch, the time the explosion was supposed to happen has come and gone by uneventfully.

"Jack? Can you hear me?" Daniel asks.

"We're okay. Nothing happened. Cassandra's fine, I'm fine. It didn't happen. I just…I couldn't leave her," I try to explain. It's made a lot harder by the fact that I want to give different reasons to the men a few floors up than to the little girl who is quite obviously listening in.

"How did you know?"

"I just did."

**Sam**

"I thought you were coming home yesterday," I say as Jack comes in.

"I know, but…Cassie doesn't really have anyone right now."

"She's cleared to come off base isn't she?" I ask.

There is an edge of annoyance in his voice, "I know, but I can't exactly bring her here," he stops himself, and closes his eyes, "I'm sorry Sam. I know we can't take her. We've got enough on our plate. I get that, I really do. I just…I can't feel comfortable until I know she's going to be alright."

"Jack, come with me," I say. I lead him into the room that was mine when I first moved in here. He probably thought I was going to take him to the nursery. It's been pretty much ready for a month now, but every once in a while I add on something new. But that is not what I want to show him today.

"You're painting?" he asks in confusion as he sees the big plastic tarps.

"Right," I hedge, "So this wasn't the big reveal I was planning in my head. And I'm not painting."

"Right, that is on the 'don't do while pregnant' list. So you want me to paint the room pink? I thought you didn't approve of pink for a baby girl, that's why we went with green for the nursery."

"This is not for the baby," I stop him.

"Right, just part of the nesting phase. Ok, I can deal with a girly guest room."

I smile at him, "Not a guest room, Jack, I say lifting the tarp to reveal children's furniture.

He stares at it in silence for a few long minutes before he turns to me, "You sure, Sam?"

"Positive," I assure him "I looked into it, and it might be a little hard for both of us to adopt since we're not married. Her off world origin might make us an exception. If not, we can flip a coin for who gets to be the legal parent." I trail off, because I realize I have no idea how he is taking all of this. For all I know, he never even thought of adopting Cassie, "I mean if you want to," I hedge.

His grin grows wider, "Want to? Are you kidding me? I love her, and I love you," he says kissing my forehead, "I knew as soon as I heard you researched the chances of adopting her that you were serious!"

"I thought I'd go to the base to spend the night with Cassie while you painted this place. Then I could bring her here tomorrow."

He grins, "Ok, but do not, I repeat do not, let the cat out of the bag until I'm there."

"Ok," I say, as he gives me another kiss.

"And you're sure about the pink?" he asks with a quirked brow.

"I'm not so much, but Cassie is."

"Alright then," he says, "Part of being a parent is letting your kid make mistakes," he flinches at his words.

"Let's hope her worst mistake is a pink room," I say.

"It won't be."

*Ok, give me a vote on which of these middle names you like or I may never decide. Broca or Dorothy? Broca, from the virus that resulted in her existence and Dorothy after Sam's mother.


	16. Parenthood

Author's note: Dorothy wins.

And on the subject of names, guys, unique names are good. I grew up with a strange name. The kind of name no one correctly pronounces from reading. But it was mine, and mine alone. My parents picked it because they liked the meaning, and because they liked the sound. I was the only one of that name I knew, and it was amazing. I didn't want to be one of the five "Tiffany's" or four "Emily's" or whatever in the school. When my name was said I knew they meant me. So yes, Serendipity is unique. Yes, it would be hard to write. But I didn't learn how to spell my middle name (only four letters by the way) until third grade, and I'm fine. Fully functional adult. So I hear your point people, I really do. But the name is Serendipity, deal with it.

**Cassie**

Sam found me a new family. I really wanted Sam, and Jack, and Serendipity to be my family, but they don't want me.

"When I move in with my new family will I ever get to see you and Jack?" I ask.

"All the time, I guarantee it," she says with a smile.

"And your baby?" I ask. They want their baby, but not me.

"You two are going to be like sisters," she says.

I sigh and stare out the window. This would all be so much better if Sam didn't look so happy about getting rid of me.

She stops in front of a house, and Jack comes out.

"He's coming with us to drop me off?" I ask confused.

She smiles, "Hey, Jack, Cassie's a bit confused as to why you're here because I told her I was taking her to her new family."

"And here you are," he says holding out his hands. It takes my brain a second to figure out what is happening. "Really?" I look from one to the other, and both are nodding.

Jack's already got his arms out so I hug him first, and then Sam and then back again until my arms are tired from all the hugging.

**Sam**

Crap, I must have woken Jack up banging around in the kitchen.

"I'm sorry," I say.

"'S'okay, Carter, just tell me what's going on?" he says squinting at me, obviously not awake.

I'd planned on faking my way through this conversation, but I know now that isn't going to work, I start to cry.

"'Com'ere," he says pulling me into a hug. When I get calmed down he asks, "So is the fact that everything in our kitchen is on the counter have to do with a particular craving?"

I shake my head, "What do they eat for breakfast on Cassie's planet?" I ask. He was actually there. I know absolutely nothing about the place my daughter came from except that they are close to a black hole, and all died of a disease.

He starts to laugh, and I'm trying to be offended, but I have to admit that I find this a little bit funny as well.

"I'm sorry," I mutter, "I woke up with the sun, and started…"

"Freaking out," he says.

I nod.

"Instant motherhood can do that to you."

"I want to be her mom, and I've been getting ready to be a mom for months now."

"But Cassie is a little older than Serendipity," He says. "You know you're not in this alone right? We're a team?"

I nod.

"I think we should go out for breakfast, huh? She can pick something she likes."

"She didn't like hot dog buns," I mutter.

"The child will eat," I say.

"We need to find her a school."

"Yeah, one with security clearance," he adds, "Hammond is looking into it."

"What is their education system like on their planet? Her reading is good, but math? And science? I know we'll be starting from scratch in social studies, because she grew up on a different planet."

"We'll figure it out Carter."

"Sam? Jack?" a voice says as she comes around the corner.

"Morning sweetheart," I offer.

"Hey, we were thinking of going out for breakfast."

She looks confused, "like eat outside? On my planet we have a holiday where we eat outside."

"I meant at a restaurant. You know a building where you go to eat food," I offer.

"That kind of sounds like fun," she says.

"Most people think it is," Jack says.

"'Kay," she grins.

"You have to get dressed first," I say.

"And one of your new outfits, not something you brought with you," Jack reminds her when she is halfway back to her room. Am I ever going to get that psychic parent thing Jack has?

**Cassie**

I don't know what's going on with Sam, but I know something is. She's looked all worried ever since I woke up this morning. She and Jack were talking about something in the kitchen before I came out.

This whole concept of "going out to eat" is not something that we ever did on Hanka, and it is definitely one of the things that earth does better than my planet. That list so far, seems to be pretty long. I put their hospitals that make sick people better, and the big metal thing that keeps the Goa'uld away at the top of the list.

I should really be having fun. Particularly since they let me order something called, "pancakes" and then let me pour something called "syrup" on them. What they fail to realize is this "syrup" is basically sugar, something no one on my planet would be allowed to eat for breakfast. But if they haven't figured it out yet I am certainly not going to be the one to tell them.

I should be having fun, but I'm not because a worry keeps playing on my mind.

"Sam, do you take it back?" I ask.

She looks at me with a question on her face, but she doesn't ask it, so I clarify. "Do you take back saying you're my new family?" I suddenly get nervous, and start talking really fast, "Because if you do. I understand. I don't want you to keep me if…"

She cuts me off by grabbing my face in my hands, "I want you Cassie. I love you. You don't have to doubt that ever again. Yes, this morning I am worried. I'm worried about you. But that isn't your fault. I'm worried I'm not going to be a good enough mother for you. And I'm worried about getting you into school, and making you food you'll like, and telling you everything you'll need to know so you won't say something in public that will make it obvious you aren't from around here, and I'm worried about you making friends, and about when you'll meet my family, and a million other things."

"And that's what being a parent is," Jack breaks in rubbing her arm, and I'm pretty sure he's trying to reassure her in much the same way that she was trying to reassure me.

"You're a really good mother so far," I offer, and that draws a smile out of her. She tries to lean forward and kiss my forehead, but her stomach bumps against the table and won't let her. I slip out of the booth and stand next to her so she can kiss me on my forehead.

"I say we go to the park after breakfast," Jack says wiping his mouth. He's eating something called waffles which also involves the thing called syrup so he's got to know it's pure sugar. I'm thinking this is probably a conspiracy against Sam. She's eating toast, eggs, and bacon, none of which are considered syrup worthy.

"Agreed," Sam says.

Jack picks a piece of bacon off Sam's plate and hands it to me. I look at Sam to make sure she's ok with his theft and she nods. I take a bite, and my eyes bulge. This is amazing!

"So my guess is they don't have pigs on…in Toronto?" Jack asks.

I shake my head. I know what a pig looks like. I saw one in one of the books Sam gave me, but I didn't think of pig when I ate this. Pigs were nasty dirty little creatures, and this was crunchy heaven. They couldn't possibly be related.

"Are you going to eat the rest of your bacon Sam?" I ask in my sweetest voice.

"This is payment for all the bacon I stole from Mark over the years," she mutters handing me both of her other pieces.

"Who's Mark?" I ask.

"My brother," she says biting her lip, and turning to Jack. "Dad and Mark are both going to want to meet the newest member of our family. Any special time you want them to come?"

Jack shrugs.

"Your dad's coming?" she asks cautiously.

"I'm not sure we want those two to get together," he mutters.

"Jack, family," she says.

"Next time we go to the cabin."

"So," Sam says turning to me, "You have two grandfathers, an uncle, an aunt and two cousins now. Both the cousins are way younger than you. The girl is one, and the boy is three."

"What about my grandmas?" I ask.

"Your grandmas are dead," Jack says softly.

"Sorry," I mutter.

"I'm sorry for you too," Jack says with a sad smile, "You're not quite getting a complete family."

"I've got you guys," suddenly I feel my brows knitting together, "hey, what is your last name?" I also want to ask if I'm going to have the same last name as them or not, but I don't feel like I can do that quite quiet yet.

Sam looks really uncomfortable. "My last name is Carter, Jack's is O'Neill."

"So women on earth don't change their names when they get married?" I ask. I'm not particularly surprised. There are a lot of things the women of my planet do that the women of this planet do not do.

"Sweetheart, Sam and I aren't married," Jack says.

Ok, now I'm confused, "but you're having a baby," I tell them.

Sam looks like she's going to cry, and Jack looks really bothered too, so I say, "Sorry," even though I don't really know what I did wrong.

"It's ok honey, you're right. We should be married. We're…we thought you knew. If you want another family now…" Jack says.

"No," I say firmly.

Sam bites her lip before she says, "Honey we do promise we'll always be there for you. Always be in your life, and Serendipity's," she says rubbing her belly, "but we aren't quite ready to get married now. If you want to wait for another family, something more stable. We'd understand."

I shake my head. "I'll take you if you're willing to take me," I say.

**Jack**

Today is a day of firsts for little Cassie. First time eating at restaurant. First time using swings. First time going across the monkey bars. First time seeing a dog. I'd like to get Cassie a dog, but Sam really doesn't need another change in her life right now. Maybe in a year or two.

Cassie is still enjoying the swings, and I join Sam on a bench.

"You know what Cassie asked about earlier…" I begin.

"She's asked a lot of questions today Jack, you're going to have to be more specific," Sam says jokingly.

"About marriage," I say. She shifts a bit uncomfortably, "Sam if you wanted to…" I pause.

"Worse proposal ever," she says dramatically. "So bad, I'm not going to dignify it with a response."

"Sam, I'm not joking. I mean…I'd rather wait, and do it right later on. I'm getting more and more sure that there will be a right time. But if you…I mean I can understand if you want to be married before the baby comes. Especially now since we have a kid old enough to know we're a bad example. We didn't really talk about marriage, and I wanted you to know…I'd be willing to marry you."

She sighs and shifts a little bit. Apparently this proposal is at least worthy of a response. "Marriage isn't supposed to be something you're willing to do Jack. It's supposed to be something you want to do. It should feel like a privilege not a duty. I want to wait for the 'right time'."

I nod.

"I appreciate it though Jack," she mutters.

"And if you had said yes…Carter, you're no duty. Never."

And she grins at that, and I suspect that she needed to hear that.

"Jack! Sam!" Cassie says excitedly running toward us, "I caught an animal. Tell me its name." She unfolds her hands enough that we can see a frog in them.

"Northern Leopard frog," Sam replies.

I raise my eyebrows at her.

"What?" Sam asks.

"Cassie, don't let Sam corrupt you. Normal people just call it a frog. You hide them in your pockets, and scare people with them at school."

Sam rolls her eyes, "Yes, people did that way back in 1800's when Jack went to school. Nowadays though, we don't do that."

"How long ago was the 1800's," Cassie asks.

"Sam was trying to tell a joke," I grumble.

"The 1800's were two hundred years ago," Sam says evidently trying to begin Cassie's education.

Cassie grins at me, "You look good for 200, Jack, are you Jaffa?"

"You getting hungry, smart aleck?" I ask.

She nods.

"Ok, we're heading home.

**Sam**

On the way back to the house for lunch we picked up something called a "sixth grade workbook." Cassie is working on a bit of it now. We're less than a month from the end of the school year, so I want to get her going as soon as we can. I just don't know if we should put her in the sixth grade with her age mates or drop an age down. Or, if she's so far behind that dropping one grade down won't do any good.

Jack settles down with her in case she has questions, and I go for the phone.

"Dad, you're a grandpa again."

"Two months early? Is she ok? Where is she?" he says clearly freaking out.

"No, Dad not the baby. Sorry. I'm still pregnant, the baby is fine. It's just. Jack and I are adopting a twelve year old girl."

"What?" he practically shouts, "Sam, this baby is one thing. It's yours. You are trying to give it the best home you can. I get that. But this kid…she could have anyone. Let her wait for the right family."

"Jack found her on a mission. Her whole…village is dead."

"I understand that you are attached to her, and that she is no doubt attached to the two of you. But she could wait for a family that is…." I can tell he's fishing for a combination of words that aren't going to offend me.

"I know Dad, but there are elements of her past that are very classified. Any family she has is going to have to have security clearance. There aren't that many people with that level of security clearance. And I wouldn't think of taking her if I didn't think she'd be fine…I mean, we will be good parents."

"Of course you will. But you're not married. It's not…"

"It's stable, Dad. Jack…offered to marry me. We're not ready for that yet. But I'm pretty sure…I mean I think…you know what? We'll be good parents for Cassandra and our baby no matter what," I say it as firmly as I can, rubbing my belly a little nervously.

"I know you will be Sam. I just don't want you to end up raising two kids all by yourself," he says.

"I'm not afraid of that," I say watching Jack helping Cassie with the work in the other room. They giggle over something. "You want to talk to her?" I ask.

"The kid?" He asks surprised.

"Yeah, I told her that you're her grandfather now. Should I…not have done that?" I ask suddenly nervous.

"Of course, I want to talk to her…she's going to be my granddaughter. Is my granddaughter?" he suddenly asks.

"Ah, the legal process is…she's living with us now. She isn't even technically a," I almost said a citizen of earth, but I stop myself just in time, "she doesn't have all the paperwork right now. But as soon as her paperwork comes through we'll be her adopted parents. We're circumnavigating some of the legal parts since her paperwork…"

"Won't be completely honest anyway?" Dad finishes. "Put her on."

"Cassie," I say poking my head into the room. "Your grandfather wants to talk to you. My father," I clarify.

She runs out into the kitchen, and looks around, "Where?"

I smile, "this is a phone Cassie. It's a way our people talk to people far away. Your Grandfather is in a place called Washington D.C. which is a long way from here. But you can hear his voice with this," I say handing it to her.

"Hello," she practically shouts into the mouth piece.

"Honey, you can speak into it quietly, and he'll still hear you," I tell her.

"Oh," she says practically whispering. Her voice comes nearer to normal as she starts answering questions I can't hear.

"Twelve."

"Ah, I don't know."

"Never tried it."

"Toronto."

I join Jack in the living room.

"She'll be fine in sixth grade math Sam. In fact she knows some algebra," Jack says. I relax a little. If she's good in English and math she'll be fine. "Hammond finished up her paperwork, school records and such."

"I think, since there is only a month left we should put her in fifth grade. I mean…I don't want school to be too stressful."

He fiddles with my hair, and then deepens the motions into a scalp massage. I lean into it, letting it relax me. He waits until I'm pretty relaxed before he says, "Sure this isn't about the fact that you're not ready to have a daughter in junior high?"

I glare at him.

"Sorry, sorry," he says throwing up his hands. Of course, this means that his hands are no longer working their miracle on my scalp, and I let out a groan. He grins, and starts working it over some more.

"History is going to be hard. A lot of history gets covered second grade," I say.

"Yeah, we'll see what she thinks, ok?" he asks.

I hear a giggle from the kitchen.

"Jacob took it well then?" Jack asks.

"He's worried I'm going to be a single mom of two kids with no help."

"Not happening."

"I told him that," I say leaning against him. He guides me down so my head is in his lap, and he reaches one arm over to sit on my growing belly. Serendipity kicks me, and I barely notice, because the girl's got an assault going pretty much twenty-four hours a day.

"Wow," Jack says eyes wide.

"What?" I ask.

A grin sneaks across his face.

"I felt her move," he says.

I'm about to make a sarcastic comment about her passing her hand to hand combat test from the womb, but he's happy so I'll save my whining for another time. "Told you she likes her daddy."

"Sam…Jacob wants to talk to you again," Cassie says from the door with the phone still plastered to her ear, "Right….Grandpa Jacob," she amends.

I start to get up.

"Bring the phone to your mother," Jack scolds.

Cassie's face goes pale.

"To Sam," he amends quickly, "I just meant to bring the phone to Sam."

"It's ok honey, I'll get it," I say doing this rocking thing to try to get up. I didn't take into account how pathetic it made me look. Or how much sympathy it would earn me. Cassie comes running over with the phone, and Jack scoots away from me before hopping up to retrieve it.

"I'm not an invalid!" I protest.

I hear my Dad laughing on the phone. I'm definitely outnumbered, so I flop back on the couch with the phone in my hand. Jack squeezes his legs back under me.

"Yeah Dad?" I ask.

He bites back his laugh before he starts talking.

"Hey, Cassandra, if you put your hand on Sam's belly you might feel Dipity-doo kick," Jack says.

She lays her hand out, but Serendipity is still until Jack's puts his hand next to Cassie's. Serendipity's a Daddy's girl through and through.

**Jack**

"You know I could take her to school by myself," I tell Sam for about the tenth time this morning. She's packing Cassie's lunch. And I'm supervising the packing of Cassie's lunch.

"I'm not going to miss Cassandra's first day of school," she says putting the third sandwich into the lunch container.

"Ok, but you get this isn't a first day first day right?" I ask taking two of them out.

"I don't know what kind of sandwich she likes," Sam protests trying to grab the sandwiches back.

"Sam, do not embarrass our daughter on her first day of earth school. Let me pack the lunch," I say nudging her out of the way.

"I don't know, maybe we should wait for next year," she says.

"Sam, there is nearly a month left, it will be a good adjustment period. Besides, the base day care only operates for school age children after school hours or during the summer. If she doesn't go to school we'll have to find another day care, and explain why she's not in school, and…"

"Ok, I get it," Sam mutters crossing her arms. They sort of slide off her big belly.

"She's going to be fine," I assure her.

Just then Cassie comes down the stairs.

"Are you nervous?" Sam blurts out.

Cassie glances between us nervously, "No, should I be?"

"Absolutely not," I assure her.

"No, you'll be fine," Sam agrees.

"Ok, what do you want for breakfast?" I ask.

Cassie grins, "Waffles?" she asks. She thinks she's tricking us whenever she gets waffles for breakfast. I'm guessing Hanka was a little light on wonderful things like syrup and butter.

"Thought you'd say that," I say nodding toward the waffle maker. Sam scrapes a waffle out of the maker. I grab Cassie the syrup.

I give Sam a careful look. "You aren't going to get all emotional today when we drop her off at school, right? I mean this isn't her first day of school."

"Yeah, I went all the time back in…Toronto," Cassie offers.

"Seriously, I'm fine guys," Sam says, and I know I'm starting to get on her nerves.

"Ok, because you could just blame it on the pregnancy hormones," I offer with a grin that causes her to give my arm a playful swat.

Sam stands up, "Hey, you forgot to eat," I call to her.

"I just want to check to make sure she has all the school supplies," Sam says.

"You mean the list you checked eight times already?" I ask.

"Once more."

**Sam**

And he was worried about me. We got as far as the classroom door when he started to tear up. We probably would have been alright had not the fifth grade room been next to the kindergarteners. The hallway was plastered with finger paintings. One of them resembles that painting Cassandra and I made on the first day. Minus dead bodies.

He grabs her hand.

She glares at him.

He drops her hand.

I hand her the backpack I've been carrying.

She grins at me.

We enter the room. The teacher grins, "Hello Cassandra, your first day." She's met the teacher before.

"Yep," Cassie grins, and bounces into the room. Unloading her backpack into her desk.

"Sir, I know this is hard," the teacher says. I glance over at Jack. Teary-eyed Jack.

"It's ok, just the pregnancy hormones," I offer.

He glares at me.

"Hey, that's what you said it was with me this morning."

"See you," Cassie says giving a little hop to place a kiss first on Jack's cheek and then mine. It's only when she gives my belly a little kiss that the tears in Jack's eyes actually spill over.

"Stop gloating," Jack grumbles.

"Have a good day, Cassie," I say ruffling her hair.


	17. Solitudes

I really want to thank you all for making this my most reviewed story ever! Reviews seriously make my day.

**Jack**

"Oh my God. Aargh, eurgh," what is causing this unreal amount of pain in my head.

"Colonel…" a voice says.

"Siler?" I ask.

"Yeah, uh…Try to stay put Sir, I think your leg's broken."

"No, my leg's definitely broken. What's the bad news, 'cause unless they've redecorated the Gate room I don't think we're in Kansas anymore."

"Daniel must have misdialed," he offers.

"Misdialed? You mean this place is a wrong number? Ah, for crying out loud. Where is he?" I say looking around for some archeologist butt to kick.

"He's not here, Sir. Neither is Teal'c."

"No, he has to be," I say confused and reaching for my radio.

"I tried that. You've been unconscious for nearly two hours."

"They came through the Gate before we did," I say after I had carefully checked it against my memory. I want to be sure I'm right about this before I say it aloud. I am pretty sure I have a head wound. I want to make sure that no one but me knows that detail.

"I know that, I also know that we're alone here, wherever here is."

"Ice. Nice."

"Yeah, lot of ice, Sir. I wish I had my blow torch. We're in trouble."

"Oh, nonsense. We'll just dial home and straighten all this out," I look around and see nothing but ice and Siler, "Where's the DHD?"

"Can't find that either."

I flop my head back against the ice having temporarily forgotten about the head injury, "Oh, so, uh, we're in trouble."

"We're in trouble," Siler agrees.

**Daniel**

My eyes open to Teal'c's face. That's actually a really good thing to wake up to. Well, I mean it does have a downside, because it usually means you're in the infirmary. But the up side is that it means you're safe. If you're in danger you're not going to be looking at Teal'c's face, but his back as he guards you.

"Teal'c?" I ask, because I don't actually remember why I'm in the infirmary this time.

"The Stargate has malfunctioned. We came back through the Gate at too great a velocity," Teal'c explains. He's woken up enough times in the infirmary to deal with just gained consciousness confusion.

"Jack and Siler?" I ask.

"They did not follow."

I remember now, and I know that isn't true, "Yes they did. I know they did. They were right behind us. That doesn't make any sense."

"I concur. In a few hours a probe will be sent back in an attempt to determine their fate," Teal'c says.

My head flops back against the infirmary bed. "Anyone told Sam?"

"We were waiting for you to gain consciousness."

"Of course you were."

**Jack**

"Colonel, I've found it!" Siler explains from a boulder where he's been chopping up ice.

"Found what?"

"The DHD. I figured the glacial flow must have separated the Stargate from its Dial Home Device, but it looks like it might be intact."

I drag myself over to look at the new find, "Ah, God. Oh." I voice my body's protests at the move, "Can we dig it out?" I ask once I've breathed through the worst part of the pain.

"Even if it doesn't work, we can use the chopped ice to melt drinking water," he shrugs, overly cheerfully. Of course he isn't the one with a broken leg.

"All right," I say as we begin to chip away at the ice.

**Sam**

My back has been aching all day, and the Braxton-Hicks contractions are sending me through the roof. I'm miserable. Apparently, I'm going to be miserable for the next month. I might kill Jack when he comes back.

Plus, he's a couple of hours late.

"Are you ok, Sam?" Cassie asks.

"Yeah, fine, sweetie," I say ruffling her hair, "How's that geography assignment?"

"Cause you keep making those horrible faces every once in awhile."

"Fine," I assure her.

The doorbell rings, and Cassie runs to get it. "Look through the peephole before you answer," I remind her. Hanka had less crime then we have here.

"It's Daniel," she says excitedly going to answer the door. But I know that's a bad sign. If they were on a mission, and Daniel is here, and Jack isn't.

I walk into the entry. I think my face shows my worry, because Daniel is freaking out.

"Sam, he's…I'm sure he's alive. He's probably fine. Sam, are you ok?"

"Fine, Braxton-Hicks, what happened to Jack?" I demand.

"Sam, can you sit down," He says.

"Do not baby me right now!" I practically scream. I look over, and Cassie looks terrified. "Come here honey, it's ok. Everything is fine. I'm sure Jack is in the infirmary, or something, perfectly fine, I'm sorry I scared you." I say kissing her forehead, "Can you take your homework into your room?"

"But Jack?" she asks.

"I need to get details from Daniel, but I'll tell you the important stuff later, ok?"

She nods gravely.

I sit down in the living room mostly to pacify Daniel. "What happened?" I ask softly. I know my emotional outburst decreased my chances of getting the true story. I figure if I'm calm enough now I might still get the truth.

"We don't know. The gate-did something funky." I raise an eyebrow, "I don't know; you're going to have to talk to the gate techs in order to get more information on it. I think it was something about overloading and double the normal capacity. All I know is it flung Teal'c and me out of that thing really fast. And that Jack and Siler didn't come after us."

"Wait…what? You mean he's missing? Not injured just missing?"

"Well, I don't know. Teal'c and I came flying out of that thing. He could be both, Sam."

"You ok?" I ask touching his hand.

He nods. Another one of those Braxton-Hicks contractions hits me. I squirm to readjust myself. Something that normally helps, but that hasn't been working for me today.

"You ok, Sam?" he asks.

"Yes," I grouch, wiggling some more, waiting for the pain to leave.

"That lasted fifty-six seconds," he murmurs with his eyes trained on the clock behind me on the wall.

"I know, I lived it," I grumble.

"Sam, I'm pretty sure you are in labor."

"No, it's just false labor, I've got another month."

"Sam, that was a long contraction, I think you're in labor."

"I need another month," I'm practically in tears, "and Jack isn't here."

"Sam, let's just go in and talk to Janet," he says.

"You have to go save Jack, he's wounded and lost somewhere."

"You're in labor," he insists.

"Just take Cassie, and me to the base, and then get this baby's dad back here."

"Sam, it's really going to be ok, you can do this."

"Ok."

"And if the baby does come a month early, it will be fine." *see note at end

I nod, but I know that isn't completely true. A baby born a month early could have a lot of trouble eating, gaining weight, getting sick easier and even breathing. And they could still face problems later on in life - learning, psychological.

"Hey now Daddy's girl, can't you wait for him," I ask rubbing my belly. "Stay in mommy for another month, baby girl."

"Cassie sweetie," I call, walking toward the room.

"Is he dead?" she says looking pale.

"No, honey, he's just missing. The stargate messed up, and they need to find him. It's going to be ok. But your little sister decided to come early. So Daniel is going to take us to the base. Janet is going to look after you, Daniel is going to find Jack, and I'm going to have a baby."

"I think I have the hard job," Daniel complains.

"Really? Because I'm willing to trade," I say.

"You know what? I take it back."

I shift as another, I-really-hope-these-aren't-contractions, hits me. I'm feeling something like really bad cramps. Yeah, Daniel's right, I'm definitely in labor.

**Jack**

"Siler, Siler," I call over the radio.

"Colonel," he says rushing over to me. "You're bleeding internally; I don't know how badly. Your broken leg may already be frostbitten, I can't tell. I've been trying to warm it up with the last of our cooking sterno but that's about had it," he says in straight face.

"What's the bad news?" I ask jokingly. He doesn't find it funny, "Help me up."

"You need to rest, O'Neill," he says.

"I want you to drink as much of this as you can. Once that sterno dies, we won't be able to thaw anymore water," he says holding the cup up for me to drink, "Captain Carter would have gotten you out of here by now. I'm sorry."

"You don't know that, and we're going to get out of here."

"I have been working on the control panel for the last twelve hours. It just…I don't know why it won't work."

"It's time to go to plan B."

"What would plan B be?"

"You…you take the rest of the supplies and climb out of here. Take your chances up on the planet. Head towards daylight."

"If I can't get that Stargate to work; we will BOTH go."

"Right, I'll race you. All right, Siler, make it work."

"Yes Sir."

**Sam**

Janet leans over and talks to an Airman by the door. She returns with a big, fake smile.

"How are you doing?" she asks. I'm definitely in labor, and the drugs that they used to stop it, didn't work. So I'm having a premature baby. But she isn't very premature, and she's a girl which improves her prognosis.

"I'm fine, what's the news on Jack."

"Just focus on the baby, Sam," Janet sooths.

"So he's dead?" I ask.

"God no, it's just…Sam, Hammond declared Jack missing in action. He's…calling off the search."

I try to get up.

"Where do you think you're going?" Janet exclaims.

"I'm going to yell at Hammond."

"You're having a baby."

"A lot of women walk when they are having a baby."

"Sam, no, I'm sorry. I know you care about him. But right now, I need you here. Your baby needs you here. Body and mind. This isn't easy what you're doing. It requires your attention."

"Janet."

"If you think Daniel and Teal'c are giving up on him, you're crazy."

**Jack**

"Siler," I say calling him over. "Give this to Sam." I say handing him a note. It isn't what it should be. There are a lot of things I wanted to say, but it didn't turn out. I've never been good at goodbyes.

"Colonel, you aren't going to die."

"Siler, just take the note," I demand thrusting it toward him.

He folds it up, and puts it in his pocket.

**Daniel**

"Sam, how are you doing?"

"Labor," she moans.

"Ok, stupid question. Ah…we think we found Jack."

"What planet is he on?" she asks, looking at my eyes.

"This one actually. There's a second gate in Antarctica. Fifty miles from McMurdo. We found it, because the shaking of the gate showed up on a seismometer."

She grins faintly, "I installed frequency dampers so our gate wouldn't do that."

"Yeah you did,"

"Daniel?"

"Yeah."

"Why are you still here?"

He laughs.

"No, you know what I mean. Rescue mission. Antarctica is cold. He's probably hurt."

"They don't need me for that, I figured I'd stay and…"

"No," she cuts me off grabbing my arm, "Daniel a million things could go wrong. You and Teal'c, you need to be there to fix all the things that could go wrong without us expecting it. You need to save him."

"You're in labor."

She shakes her head, "You go get him, Daniel, I can do this," she says gripping my arm. That's all I needed. "Ok, Sam, I'm going to bring him back."

**Sam**

Janet is out of the room, and I thought all the nurses were out of earshot so I let a moan out. I roll over on my side, and curl up a little, and just let the pain wash over me. I hear a voice at my back.

"Sam," a little voice. A Cassie voice.

I roll over, "Hey Cassie, it's ok," I say giving her a big smile.

"It hurts a lot to have a baby doesn't it Sam?"

"It does Cassie, but it's going to be ok. It won't be long and the baby will be here, and Jack will be back, and I'm not even going to remember how much it hurt."

"But it does hurt, Sam," she says gravely.

"I promise I'm fine," I say putting out my arms.

She comes to me, "Daniel and Teal'c went to get Jack, and no one is here to help you."

"Janet's here, and she's a doctor, so better than average," I say.

She shakes her head, "You shouldn't have a baby all alone. I'll stay with you," she says sitting down on a chair by the head of my bed.

"Cassie, having babies, that's grown up stuff."

"But the grown up's aren't here, please let me help you. I can't help anyone else," and she looks so lost, that I feel by saying yes I'm actually helping her.

"Ok, stay near the head, and don't look or you'll never have kids," she blushes, "although if you're planning on having kids anytime in the next decade go ahead and look so you change your mind."

"Funny, Sam," she says sarcastically.

"Love you, Cassie," I say before another contraction hits.

**Daniel**

"Sam is this a good time, can I call back?" I ask when her phone is answered by a scream of agony.

"Tell me, Jack!" she pants. She's sounding a little bit like a cavewoman right now, which ironically is how she got into this mess.

"Ah, we found him. We're not going to be going back to Colorado real soon. We're going to try to patch him up at the medical services at McMurdo."

"Which means he's too bad to fly, tell me what's wrong," she demands.

"Broken ribs, broken leg, hyperthermia, maybe some frostbite and…ah…there is some internal bleeding."

"How much?"

"They aren't really sure."

"He needs surgery?"

"Yeah."

"Call me when he's done. When they know how bad it is."

"Are you sure, it sounds like you're pretty busy right now Sam."

"Yeah, I am busy, but I think I'm close Daniel, and even if I am physically giving birth when you call I still want to know."

I've actually helped two woman give birth, and I still feel myself blushing. "Ok, Sam."

**Cassie**

I'm glad Sam warned me about the blood. Otherwise I would have thought there was something really wrong with the baby. She's all wrinkly, and bloody, and screaming.

"Lungs sound good," Sam says with a smile. It might have come off as a joke if we hadn't both known how worried she is about that. Janet feels her pulse, and touches her a few different ways.

"She looks really healthy Sam," Janet says.

"You have to…I don't know…do tests," Sam says sounding exhausted.

"I've already done Apgar Score, she's got a nine-very good, the rest wait awhile. Right now Mommy can hold her for the first time," she says handing her over to Sam.

"Hey there, it's nice to see you little one. I'm that voice that you've been hearing, and the source of all those tastes, and that warm soft thing around you."

Janet laughs.

"That's kinda gross," I mutter.

"Hey baby girl, that's your big sister Cassie, she thinks you're gross," Sam says.

"Not what I said."

"Do you want to cut the umbilical cord?" Janet asks.

"What?" I ask.

Sam reaches out and touches the thin cord, "This honey, it's how a baby gets food when she's in my belly. But now she doesn't need it. So someone had to cut it, and then Janet will tie it up and it will be a belly button. You don't have to do it, but it's kind of an honor on earth."

"Ok," I say. Janet hands me a scissors, and clamps off either side of this cord. I snip it with my eyes closed, and open it to see them both laughing at me.

Then Janet picks up the baby, and says, "Ok, we'll get you cleaned up, and weighted, and run a couple tests, and then we'll bring you back."

"Thanks Janet," Sam says closing her eyes.

The phone rings, and I am ready to get it, but Sam grabs it.

"Daniel?" she asks.

"No, the baby's here. Janet just took her."

"Yeah, I'm exhausted, just tell me how Jack is."

Her face looks grim, but not devastated, and she hangs up the phone, and looks like she's going back to sleep. I know I should just let her go to sleep, but I can't do it.

"Sam?" I ask tentatively.

"Sorry Cass, I forgot you'd be worried too. The surgery went fine. They were able to stop all the internal bleeding. He' still asleep, which is normal," she says reacting in such a way that I know my face must have been very worried. "His temperature is still going up, but it's not where they want it to be. They are pretty sure he isn't going to lose any fingers or toes."

"They were worried about that?" I ask.

She nods, "but not so much anymore. His leg is set, his ribs are wrapped, and he's on pain killers. It's going to take him a long time to get better you know that right Cassie?"

I nod my head, but it's a lie. I was kind of picturing Jack walking in here just fine in a couple of hours, but I'm starting to get that it isn't going to be like that.

"But he's not going to die," she says.

"I didn't know…" I say clutching her arm.

"Honey, it's ok, Jack is fine."

"But you were having a baby, and worrying that he was going to die, and I didn't know how serious it was."

"Hey, listen Cassie," she says pulling me a little ways away, "You did great. Got it? I was lucky to have you." She gives me another hug, and suddenly she pulls away, "Cassie? What time is it?"

"Nine ten," I say.

"Your late for school!" she explains.

She's got be joking right? I mean I was up almost all night. Jack almost died, and she just had a baby. "You're going to make me go to school today?"

"No, honey, but you're supposed to call the school and tell them you're not coming, and you need sleep. Man, you've got to be tired."

"Not as tired as you are," I remind her.

"Yes, sweetie, but I'm a grown-up who just gave birth, that's different. You need to go tell Janet to call your school for me, and then have her get you a bed in one of the isolation room so you can sleep. I want you to go to school tomorrow."

"Tomorrow is Saturday."

"Ok, but you still need to sleep, and tell Janet to get your homework to do over the weekend.

"Will Jack be back this weekend?"

She sighs, "I don't know, Cassie, he definitely won't be coming today, because he just had surgery. It depends on how well he's doing. We want to make sure he's safe even more than we want him with us, right?"

I nod.

"Ok, go get Janet!" Sam commands.

"Get me for what?" Janet says coming around the corner. Serendipity looks much cutter now. She's all pink and cute. She has this thin white hair covering her. She's got a lot of hair on her head too. It doesn't match the rest of her, it looks like a wig on her head. It's curly and brown.

Sam seems to have lost her train of thought and holds out her hands.

"Five pounds four ounces, seventeen and a half inches," Janet says smiling as she hands the baby over, "all tests normal."

"She's big," Sam says.

"For her age yeah, she's still small to be born," Janet warns.

"Sam says you have to call the school, and send me to bed, and pick up my homework at three," I inform Janet.

"Yeah, that's right," Sam's eyes bulge, "and I heard from Daniel," she says before giving Janet the whole run down.

**Sam**

I am searching the house frantically for an alarm clock that will not stop ringing. Jack must have gone out and bought a new alarm clock with the specific purpose of torturing me, because this is not an alarm that I recognize.

No, but I do. It's just not an alarm clock sound, it's the sound of a phone. Why is my phone ringing?

Jack.

I'm suddenly fully awake. "Hello," I mutter.

Daniel's voice answers me, "I woke you up, sorry."

"No, it's ok, how is Jack?"

"He just woke up. He wants to talk to you. He's ah…asking why you aren't here."

"So you didn't tell him the good news?" I ask.

"No, I didn't."

Jack's voice comes over next, "He made me sound more of a jerk than I was. I get that you can't fly when you're nine months pregnant."

"Ah, I'm not nine months pregnant anymore," as I say that I realize how he's likely to misunderstand, so I rush on, "I mean Broca is here, she was born about…I don't know what time it was, nine o'clock today anyway."

"Serendipity is there?" he says sounding confused. Suddenly I'm a little worried that Daniel didn't tell Jack about the baby because Jack was still out of it. He's got to be on some pretty serious pain killers right now.

"Yeah, she's born, right in this basket thing, Janet found."

"Not an incubator?"

"No, she's fine, Jack."

"Are you sure? She's early."

"She's not that early, Jack. She's fine, her breathing's good. She's strong. She'll be ok, how are you?"

"She eat yet, Sam?"

"She ate a little bit. It's…it's early yet, Jack, she'll be ok."

"Feeding problems are common in premature…" Jack starts.

"I know, and you're going to have to let me worry about Dipity, just get better, and tell me how you're doing."

"I'm fine."

"Meaning I assume your body temperature is back to normal, your frostbite is gone, and you're bones are set and healing."

"Yeah, oh crap, I have a broken leg!"

"I know," I tell him. Loopy from the drugs for sure.

"I mean, I'm going to be in a cast for 10 weeks!"

Ok, so I didn't have a number on it before, "Yeah."

"I can't carry a baby on crushes. I'm going to be worse than useless. I'm going to be making more work for you."

"No, Jack, seriously, I'm just glad you're still going to be around. And you'll be able to help. We'll figure this out. Any news on when you're coming home."

"I want to get to that baby as soon as I can, so soon."

"I didn't ask you when you wanted to come home, I asked you when you were coming."

"Tomorrow."

"Good."

"Take care of that baby, Sam, and Cassie? Who has Cass?"

"Janet."

"Janet? Where was she where you were in labor?"

Oh, he wasn't going to like this, "Cassie was kinda…here with me."

"What? I must be tripping since I thought you just said you let a twelve year old witness labor."

"She was fine, Jack."

"Sam," he says slowly, "I know you were alone. I'm sorry. I get that you needed her."

"No, Jack, it was more like she needed to be there. She was scared and alone."

"Ok, well, neither one of you has to be alone soon. Broken leg, but I'll figure out a way to help."

"I love you Jack."

"You too, Samantha."

**Sam**

"Cassie, love, I want you to go into Janet's office," I tell her.

"But Jack's coming," she protests.

I bite my lip, "I know he is honey, that is why I want you to go in there. Honey, he's going to be…he's hurt honey."

"I know, Sam."

"I don't want you to be scared."

"I thought you said he was ok."

"He is, only, have you ever seen someone in a hospital bed?"

"You."

"Right, honey, well this is different, he's going to look worse than he is."

"Sam," she says. One word. One pleading begging word, and I'm finished.

"Ok."

They drag him in, and he does look pretty bad.

"Jack," I say walking next to the bed.

"You lay down, you just had a baby!" he exclaims.

"Only reason I'm still in the infirmary is Dipity and you. How are you doing?"

"Well enough they shouldn't have me in the infirmary. How is Dipity-doo?"

"She's good, eating better, putting on a little weight. She'll probably be able to leave before you are."

"Considering I'll only be here for an hour or so I doubt it."

"Be a good patient, Jack," I warn.

Cassie is standing silently staring at Jack's leg. "Hey, Cassandra," he says holing out his arms to her. She walks over by him. "Up on the bed little one," he says, and she obeys tentatively. "Do they have casts where you're from?"

She shakes her head.

"This is on my leg, because I broke a bone. They had to set the bone which means they put it back to where it should be. And they put the cast on it so it doesn't move while it grows back strong. Actually, it grows back stronger than it was before. And I can't walk on it for awhile. But I promise it's not a big deal."

She nods, and gives him a hug. "Ugh," and I can tell Jack is trying not to make a sound.

Cassie jumps back in horror, "I hurt you?"

"It's the ribs honey, he hurt his ribs," I explain.

"It's ok, Cass, a hug from you is worth a little pain," Jack says with a smile.

"Just be gentle, and he'll be fine," I assure her.

"Are you going to unveil my other daughter before Janet drugs me into sleep with her extra-powerful pain killers or what?" Jack asks.

I nod, and go into the other room to get my daughter.

"Here is your daughter, Serendipity Dorothy O'Neill."

He lets out a surprised grin.

"What? You knew her name before."

"I wasn't sure about the last name, Carter," he says.

Jack is intensely mesmerized by her the instant he sees her. Janet warned me he probably wouldn't be strong enough to hold her. But I don't want to be the one that has to tell him he's not allowed to hold his baby.

So I arrange myself in a thousand positions supporting her as he goggles over her.

Cassie gets bored and heads off to play on Janet's computer.

"You know I've held a baby before," he mutters.

I should have known he would see right through it.

"Janet didn't want you to hold her until you were stronger," I mutter.

"As long as it was coming from that Doctor, and not this one," he says pointing to me.

"I trust you with her," I say gently releasing her so he's holding her.

"No, Sam," he says holding her out a tiny bit trying to get me to take her back.

"You're fine," I assure him.

"I'd never risk hurting her," he pleads.

"I know," I say leaning forward, and giving him a little kiss, "Just one question Jack, how come Siler has a love note to me in his pocket."

"In hindsight, I probably should have signed that."

"Thank goodness!" I exclaim.

"You don't know my handwriting?" he asks sounding a little bit offended.

"I haven't actually seen the note, just heard about it."

*For those detail-oriented people familiar with pregnancy by "one month premature" I mean 36 weeks, which is technically only one week away from full term, but which is four weeks before the due date. Something that most people refer to as "four weeks early". I know someone will write me and say, "But babies born a week before term are fine, I was one/had one/know one etc." Granted, many babies born at this point are fine, especially in the short term, but I work in special education. I know that most of my students were born two weeks before their due dates, or six weeks before or etc. Not all preemie babies end up in special ed. But A LOT of those with mild disabilities were slightly preemie. Yes, babies born a tiny bit premature don't die. But they do end up with ADHD, autism, intellectual disabilities, learning disabilities and asthma, allergies, and constant sickness from lack of an immune system which they acquire between 38-40 weeks. So yeah, there are consequences even to slight prematurity. They don't usually die at 36-38 weeks, and the consequences are often such that people don't connect them to the prematurity, especially since they frequently came years later. But they are there. And Sam is all into the baby research, and would know this. Plus, she's a little overprotective and paranoid. So she's freaking out, not because she thinks the baby isn't going to make it, but because she's worried about long term effects.

**Also, those of you who said, "Oh, threatened miscarriage, why is she freaking out?" This is a statistically likely result of said threatened miscarriage. "Chain of events, chain everything, all of the chaos makes perfect sense." And bonus points in my heart to anyone who knows who I'm quoting there.


	18. Home

**Sam**

Jack is coming back from the infirmary today, and I don't know if it's going to be easier or harder with him around. I know Janet will be relieved to have him out of her infirmary. He's cranky, and he's figured out how to use his crutches as weapons.

Cassie has three more days of school before she's out for the summer. I'm not sure if things are going to be easier or harder once that happens. One the one hand, I won't have to keep track of her crazy, always changing schedule, and it's odd requirements (you need a water balloon? Why? I asked suspiciously refusing to stop by the store only to get to school and realize I've send my child in unprepared for a science experiment. Time to run to the store, and back to school). On the other hand Cassie will be around all day.

The doorbell rings. The other parents in Cassie's class have been wonderful. Once they found out about our odd situation they've been willing to take turns giving her rides to school. The only price is pitying eyes, and that's not a small price to pay.

I start to head to the door, but I hear Serendipity start to cry.

"I'll get it, Sam," Cassie assures me.

"Thanks honey, now have a good day at school," I say giving her a quick kiss as I head to the nursery.

Before Serendipity was born I was planning on going the formula route, but breast milk is better for the immune system, and coming early, Dipity* is already behind in that department. I still am not going to attempt it once I go back to work at the end of the month (I hope). I can't imagine being on an off world mission and saying, "Oh excuse me guys, could you ask the Jaffa to stop firing for a moment, I need to express my milk." Plus few of the worlds we travel to actually have refrigeration.

But I'm doing it for now, and I've gotten in the bad habit of walking while I feed her. For some reason it helps her eat. And while she's been eating better lately, she still is not gaining as much weight as we'd like to see. Although we're lucky, some preemies lose weight. So here I am, thinking I'm all alone in the house, feeding the baby (not exactly covered completely like when I'm in public, mind you. Remember I think I'm alone in the house) when I nearly smack into my father.

"Sam!" he says in alarm.

"Geez, Dad!"I say pulling my shirt over myself and the baby.

He turns away, and I can't tell if he is finding this hilarious or traumatic.

"Grandpa Jacob is here," Cassie offered.

"I thought you were Cassie's ride to school," I attempt to explain.

"And just how familiar are you with this person?" Dad asks giving me a quirked eyebrow. In order to do so he turns toward me, and I can see he's definitely laughing and not grossed out. Well, that's good. I just wish I thought it was as funny as he did.

"I thought Cassie and her ride had both left," I explain.

"Why don't you sit down," Dad says with a wave of his hand.

"No," Cassie says shaking her head, "that will make the crying begin." She's a little too serious about this, and I'm trying to figure out how we can shield her from the noisy downside of having a new little sister in the house.

The doorbell rings.

"I'll get it again," Cassie offers.

"I'll make sure my daughter doesn't expose herself to whoever it is," Dad offers with a smirk.

"Bye, Sam," Cassie says sticking her head back in the room a few minutes later.

"So Dad, this is a nice surprise," I say with a smile.

"Well, I had to come and see this baby who insisted on entering the world so early," he says.

"Yeah, and as soon as she's done eating I'll let you do that. She's eating a lot better. We've got her on an eating schedule. Jack and I decided against one of those. We were going to do the whole 'feed her whenever she cries' things, but preemie's don't always know they're hungry."

She's done eating just then so I pull her out, and burp her.

"Hey, she's got Dot's hair," Dad says, fondly running his fingers through it.

"I know," I say with a smile.

"So how are you doing?" he asks.

"She's doing great," I say with a smile.

"Right, but that isn't exactly what I asked."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you just had a premature baby. Less than a month ago you adopted, an almost-teenage daughter, and your-what are we calling Jack now?" he asks pointedly. I love my dad's subtle not so subtle get married jabs.

"Mostly just Jack."

"Right," he says with his 'you've got to be kidding me right now' face, "and your "Jack"" he says complete with air quotes, "Is recovering from surgery and coming home with crutches and broken ribs. I mean, how are you doing?"

"I'm fine dad," I say with a smile.

He gives me the same face he makes when I tell him the cover story for the SGC, a cover story that he doesn't believe.

"Dad, seriously, this is something I can handle." I finish burping Dipity, and set her down on my lap. Dad extends his hands, and I pass the baby over.

"Hey there sweetheart," he says making this strange face that makes all babies instantly fall in love with him. She giggles. Yes, I know that it should be months before she should be developmentally able to giggle. I know that child development experts and experienced parents could provide me with a thousand alternative explanations, but I know what I saw. My daughter giggled at her grandpa.

"Seriously Sam, you know I'm retired right?" Dad asks.

I nod. He has been for a year, but the last time I checked that was something of a sore spot for him, so it wasn't exactly something I was planning on bringing up.

"I mean…Sam, I want to stay for awhile, and help."

"Dad, I have everything under control."

"I know Sam. I am not offering because I think you need me. You don't need anyone. But I really want to be here. You know I've got four grandkids now, and I don't really know any of them. I don't want to make the mistake with the two new ones that I made with the first two. Besides, as much as you are superwoman, capable of anything, the next month or so isn't going to be easy. You said you have this little one on a schedule. How often do you wake up to feed her?"

"Every hour and a half," I admit.

"Right, so you could probably do with a nap about now."

"I'm fine, and it's not like you could actually take over one of her feedings anyway," I say.

He grins, "I know, Sam, but still."

"We don't have a guest room," I protest.

"I like the couch," he says.

"No, no, you can sleep in Cassie's room. Jack mentioned he had an air mattress somewhere I could find it for…"

"I'm supposed to be making you have less work, not more," Dad says.

"Daniel is driving Jack back from the hospital about noon," I tell him, "I want to limit Dipity's time out of the house for a little longer."

"How is Jack doing?"

"Well, his broken ribs hurt like nothing else, and he's furious that his leg is going to keep him from helping with the baby. I keep telling him it's fine. That with me breastfeeding I'd have to do more of it anyway. That I'm staying home for over a month, and he's going back to work next week, so…"

"He's going back to work next week?"

"Yeah, just paperwork. Actually I'm trying to convince him to do it at home, but he's such a technophobe, doesn't trust computers."

"Can't picture you with a technophobe, Sammy. This little angel drifted off to sleep. I'll put her to bed, and you'd better go rest too."

"Yeah, I've got to clean up breakfast, and find the air mattress, and…"

"Go to bed, and I can do those things."

"Really Dad?"

"I've got this honey," he assures me, "go and sleep."

**Jack**

"Honey, I'm home," I holler as I enter the house. Sam's Dad comes out of the kitchen with a finger on his lips and an apron on. I'm pretty sure we don't own an apron. I'm pretty sure that Jacob brought an apron into this house. I'm finding this disturbingly bizarre.

"You're going to wake Sam, and the baby," he says.

"Sorry," I whisper, "did we know you were coming?"

"No, surprise, I wanted to help out for a bit, that ok?" he asks with worry.

"Great, I just…I could do it," It's a lie, and we both know it's a lie, but I'm feeling a little emasculated by the fact that I can't take care of my baby.

"I know you can, but families help each other," he says. "So Jack, you like lasagna?"

"You can cook Jacob?" I ask.

He nods.

"Well, you've just become my hero."

"Thank you, Jack," Daniel says walking into the house behind me. I practically darted into the house before he could grab the bags to come off as independent.

"I was talking to Jacob. He cooks," I inform him.

"I can cook," Daniel protests.

"Don't lie."

I hear a baby's cry, and start to go toward it. Yeah, that isn't going to work.

"I'll get her, Jack," Jacob says as he walks out of the room.

I glance at Daniel, he knows what's going on, and he's trying to come up with something to say. For a linguist his words often flee from him.

"Thanks for the ride, Danny," I say.

"Uh, you need anything Jack?" he asks.

"I'm good, thanks," I say with a smile.

The baby has stopped crying, and I hear Jacob making sounds to her.

"Ok, I'll see you later, Jack," Daniel says, leaving me alone in the kitchen.

Jacob comes out of the baby's room a few minutes later, carrying my daughter. "Hey, you gonna go to your Daddy, and let your mom sleep a little more?" Jacob asks the baby.

"We probably should wake Sam up, we've been trying to keep Dipity-doo on a schedule," I say making faces at my daughter, "Dipity needs to gain some weight, eh, baby girl?" I say.

She looks up at me with this adorably confused look. "Are you trying to figure out English already? Give it time baby girl, you're young yet. That was the problem, wasn't it? You had to get out of mommy's tummy and come see what this world is all about."

She yawns with her adorable little tongue coming out.

"Hey, Jack, you're home," Sam says coming out of our bedroom. She takes the baby as she glances at the clock, "It's a half hour past feeding time. We are going to have to teach that Grandfather of yours how to read a clock," she says pointedly.

"Come on Sam, you could use a little more sleep," Jacob says.

"I told him," I say with raised eyebrows, "but don't be too hard on him," I whisper, "he knows how to cook."

"Hey," I say with a grin, "I got you this present I was going to bring to you when you had Dipity. But the way it worked out, you came home before I did, so…Ah….might be a little hard to carry," I say indicating for her to follow me.

She goes right into the guest room. I walk over, and tap my crutches on the closet door. She opens it up and starts laughing. I got it at one of those super fluffy baby shops. It's burp rags, and bibs, and receiving blankets all formed into a teeny tiny motorcycle. The seat is a shirt that says "If you think I'm pretty you should see my mommy." **

She grins. "It's way too amazing to take apart."

"Oh no, she's wearing that shirt all the time," I insist.

"Not in public she isn't," Sam says.

I just grin at her.

"You will not be dressing out baby," she says.

"You'll change your mind after the thousandth clothing change."

She glares at me.

"You think I'm exaggerating, but babies spit up a lot, hence the spit rags."

**Daniel**

I know that Jack is crushed by his inability to help with the kid. But the real problem is he can't carry her with the crutches. But I've been around a lot of different cultures, and there are a lot of ways of living in the world.

I knock on the door. Jacob answers.

"Ah, late baby present," I say holding it up. He gestures me in. Jack is stretched out on the couch with the baby on his chest.

"Hey, Daniel, you couldn't stop yourself from coming back for dinner So much for your ability to cook," he teases.

"Jack, sit up, and try this on," I say throwing it at him.

"What's this?" he asks sitting up.

"It's a Mei Tai. Asian cultures…" his glare cuts me off, "I think you'll be able to carry her, and should be able to change her too," I say.

He lays the baby down on the couch. "How do you work this thing?" he asks.

I step forward, "You tie this part around your waist put her in here, and tie this part around your neck."

"This isn't easy," he says a few minutes later.

Sam gives a little laugh, "obviously you've never tied an apron string, or a bikini strap," she says coming over to help him.

"Not tied, so much as untied," he says, "but also got a rib problem here."

"Don't wear it if it hurts, Jack!" I exclaim.

"No, I don't think it will hurt once it's on," he says. Sam ties it gently around his neck. He slips the baby into it.

"I like this, Dipity-Doo, you're right a kiss level," he says demonstrating the truth by kissing his daughter's mess of curly hair.

He heaves them up, and I can tell Sam is nervous he's going to fall over on her. But he's careful, much more so than when she isn't attached. Once he's up, I hand him the crutches. He takes a few slow measured steps over to the kitchen table. He slips her out and sets her down.

"How was that Dipity-doo? Your Daddy is a kangaroo huh?" he grins at her. He holds her steady with one hand while he turns to me, "Thank you, Daniel."

"My pleasure, Jack," I say smacking him on the back.

**Sam**

I lay in bed, listening to the sounds of my family, getting up. I hear the sounds of Cassandra's shower. I hear the banging of Jack's crutches as he gets our daughter out of her crib. "Dipity-doo," he says, "let's change that stinky diaper." I hear the crack of eggs, and the bubbles of coffee perking in the kitchen as my dad makes breakfast.

I hear Jack's clumsy thumping down the hallway. He slides onto the bed next to me, and I reach in and get the baby out of the Mei Tai.

"Hi there Sweetie, good morning. Did Daddy give you a good wake up?" I say taking her out. Jack sits next to me as I feed her. Then I carry her out to the living room where we all have breakfast.

"Cassie, don't you have field day today at school?" Dad asks.

"Ah-huh," she says with a bite.

"And you're wearing a dress and flip flops?" he asks.

"Ah-huh," she says.

"Try again, you'll be putting on shorts, and tennis shoes right after breakfast."

"I won't be ready when they come to pick me up," she whines.

"I'm taking you today, your mom called the people who were going to pick you up," Dad informs her.

"Do I really have to change?" she asks looking at Jack and me.

"Yes, you do, because you have to show those boys you are better than them in every way," Jack says.

Oh, he's good. She just sat up nice and straight, and her flip flops slip off under the table. Bet you she's going to run hard at field day today.

Jack throws me a grin.

**Sam**

"Can I please wake him up now?" Cassie says bouncing. It's been a full week since school ended. She's sick of sitting around doing nothing, which is what she calls board games, reading, and doing a social studies/science workbook. Jack promised to take her to the park this morning.

"Just let him sleep for a little longer," I say. I'm pretty sure Jack is depressed. He hasn't had a day where he doesn't get out of bed in months. That's pretty amazing, considering everything he's got going on. But I'm pretty sure this good period has something to do with the chemical help Janet gave him. Neither Dad nor Cassie knows about Jack's depression, and I want to spare him from having them know.

"He said he'd take me," Cassie protests.

"I know sweetie, I'll go wake him up," I say with a sigh. I get up, and enter the bedroom. Jack is still under the blanket.

"Honey, you promised you'd take Cassie to the park."

"I'm sick, can you take her?" he mumbles.

"Jack, can you not take your ah…mood stabilizers when you're on the pain meds?"

"I'm not depressed," he mutters.

"Jack, it's ok, I didn't tell them."

He pulls the blankets down to glare at me, "I don't feel good Sam. This isn't depression, and I'm still on the pills."

"Ok, so what kind of sick?" I ask.

"I don't know, tired, lethargic, hard to move," he says.

I stare at him.

"What?" he asks.

"Isn't that how you describe your depression?" I ask.

He sighs for a moment, "Yes, the words are the same, but the feelings are different."

"Ok," I say with a big sigh, "Dad can take her. I just want to make sure you are ok."

"I'm just a little sick," he says looking ashamed. I so don't want him to be ashamed of this, and start hiding it from me.

"Jack, I'm sorry I asked," I say lying down next to him, "You know you're ok, just as you are. I mean…sickness and health." The words are out of my mouth before I realize I've just quoted marriage vows. Crap. I look at him. He's got no reaction. Good, maybe he missed it. I really wasn't hinting. Really. Was I? "How about Dipity and I stay in bed with you all day."

"I don't want you catching this," he says.

Ok, whatever. If he wants to stick with "sick" that's fine. But I can't help one parting shot, "There are all kinds of sick, Jack, and none of them are your fault."

"So is Jack getting up?" Dad asks.

"He's not feeling good today," I say.

"Maybe we should take him in to Janet."

"He'll be ok," I say.

Dad gives me a look that plainly tells me that something is going on here.

**Jack**

"You want some soup?"Jacob asks.

"I'm fine," he says. Maybe I really am just depressed. I mean, I was sad when I busted my leg. But what right have I to be depressed? I've got two beautiful kids and a wonderful…Sam who is obviously contemplating marriage. I mean I should be over the moon happy. If I really am depressed there is something wrong with me.

But this really feels different than depressed. Not better mind you, but different.

"You've been coughing a lot," he says.

"You're telling me. It absolutely kills me every time I cough with my broken ribs," I mutter.

"Yeah, I remember that feeling. I broke my ribs on a mission a couple of decades ago. I ended up with pneumonia. I think you have it too."

I just look at him.

"Your lungs feel heavy and wet? You're tired? Hard to move? Hard to breathe? Everything is too much effort?"

I nod.

"I'd drive you to the base, but Sam better do it, because I don't have the clearance. I know she doesn't like to leave the baby but…" Jacob says.

"We'd better bring the baby along," I say.

He raises his eyebrows at me.

"Preemie's don't have much of an immune system, and she's spent the last couple of days inches away from my face."

Jacob

"Jack, if she is sick it isn't your fault," I tell him. But I'm already pretty worried. He blames himself for his son's death. If Serendipity really is sick it's going to destroy him.

**Sam**

"Sam, I think you're going to have take Jack to the infirmary," Dad says.

"Why?"

"He's sick Sam, I think he has pneumonia."

"You mean he's really sick?" I ask in surprise.

"I think so; he's worried he got Serendipity sick."

"I told him he was fine. Dad can you get the baby ready to leave?" I say hurrying into our bedroom. "Jack, I am so sorry."

"S'Okay, Carter," he mutters.

"No, you told me it wasn't depression. I should have listened."

"I didn't know. Sam, how is Serendipity? Did I get her sick?"

"I don't think so," I say.

"Wash your hands good before you go get her."

"Dad's getting her ready, do you need my help?"

"Perfectly capable of getting ready. I wouldn't need you at all if I could drive with this damn foot." Then he looks at me, "I'll be ok."

I bite my lip.

"Sammy, it's just pneumonia," he says.

"I just…" I say, but I can't say any more. I don't want to say, "I just don't want you to die."

"This sucks for you. I mean I've got health problem after health problem, and now our little girl might be sick on top of everything."

"This isn't about me," I say.

"I get the worry thing, and I'd give you a kiss if I wasn't worried about you getting sick."

**Jack**

"You asleep?" Sam whispers as she comes into our room holding the baby. I have been sleeping a lot since I got pneumonia, but not as much as she apparently expects me to be. Serendipity was in the hospital for a week with her pneumonia, and Sam pretty much lived there the whole time. I wanted to be there too, but she wouldn't let me. I was sick, and injured, and not really in the shape to sleep in a chair in the neonatal unit.

But Sam and Dipity have been back in our lives for a week now. Sam's tiptoeing around both of us. I know pneumonia is a big deal, but it isn't as big of a deal as she thinks it is.

"No," I offer with a smile.

"Will you give Dipity her medicine?" she asks extending baby and medicine to me. I've given the kid her medicine every single time. Not that I mind of course, it seems like a fair division of labor. She feeds her; I give her medicine. But I worry about what it means that Sam won't do it.

"Of course, but…you get that this isn't hard right?" I ask. She doesn't respond, and I don't look up at her right away, because I'm busy. I wait until Dipity begins to suck on the nipple of a bottle before I squirt the medicine slowly into the nipple.

Then I hold her in my arms, lean back against the headboard of the bed, and give Sam a good hard look. She looks like she's about to cry.

"Sam, you're a good mother," I tell her.

She bites her lip, "I read so much…I thought I'd be ready. But every time something happens. Dipity cries or Cassie skins her knees or whatever, you and Dad you just do, and I just stand there and try to think back to what the books say you're supposed to do."

"Sam, books don't cover a lot of that stuff. Mostly it's just…I don't know."

"Instinct, Jack, and I don't have it."

"Sam, of course you do, everyone has it, it just takes a little bit to kick in."

She scoots next to me on the bed, and lays her head on my shoulder, "Jack, I don't think I have it. You're practically psychic. You predict and solve problems before they even have a chance to occur. Our girls are so lucky to have you as their father."

I turn to her and stare at her face for a long moment, "Sam, are you seriously envying my parenting abilities? Because the last time I checked the most important job a parent has is to keep their kid safe. Have them reach adulthood. I couldn't manage that. I failed. Our kids are both alive, so you're already twice the parent I'll ever be."

"God Jack, you still think Charlie's death was your fault?" she says with such shock that I turn to her. With absolute clarity I realize that she doesn't. That she really doesn't think I killed my son. Maybe I didn't tell her enough. Because she couldn't keep believing that in the face of facts which proved otherwise.

"Sam, it was my gun."

"And I'm sure you told Charlie gun safety rules," she says.

I nod.

She grabs my hand, "Was it locked up?" she asks compassionately but without that pity I really hate when I have to tell the story.

"Yeah, and ammo separate just like you're supposed to do. But the keys were right on the dresser."

"Not your fault," she says softly, "he took the key and put it in the lock and turned it, and…"

"Charlie didn't do anything wrong!" I shout. Serendipity was nearly asleep by this time, and she lets out a startled wail

"I know," she says soothing me, and taking the baby from my arms to sooth.

"I should have been watching him," I mutter.

"He was ten, and how long was he really in the room by himself?"

I shrug, "Sara said maybe ten minutes. But that's all it took."

"There is not a parent in the universe who hasn't left their ten-year-old out of sight for ten minutes."

I know she's right, but those parents don't have dead kids. "Jack, it doesn't matter what you tell me about what happened to Charlie. I've seen you with our kids. I see you with them every day, and you're an amazing father. Better than either of my parents, who were both good. Better than any of my friend's parents when they were on their company behavior, because I was at their house. And you are a hell of a lot better than me."

And she really means it, really believes it. "Carter, I killed my kid."

She shakes her head. She looks like she wants to say something, but no words are coming out.

"Sam…" I start to protest.

"Jack O'Neill," she says finding her voice at last, "Listen to me. You don't see yourself like the rest of the world does. You're a good person. Even when it would be far easier to do the wrong thing, you do the right thing. Even when no one will notice. Or when they will notice, but are going to punish you for it. You are so nice to other people. In a quiet sneaky way where they don't notice you're nice."

I shake my head.

"Come on, Jack, you let Daniel stay with you for how long after he came back from the dead? And I don't know how many crazy things you've done to petition that they allow Teal'c to stay off base. And I know the mysterious fairy who fixed Catherine's car when it broke down was you."

How did she find out that one out? For a woman who was stalked, she's a little stalker-like.

"That doesn't…"

"Shut up, Sir," she says. It's the first time she's called me "Sir" in months, and she's not even getting the humor in the fact that it comes after the words "shut up." "I'm trying to explain to you that if we were to put all the mistakes you've made on one side, and all the good stuff on the other, the scales would tip in your favor.

"Come on Carter, some of that bad crap is pretty weighty."

"Some of the good stuff is pretty heavy too. You're telling me you've never saved a life, Jack, 'cause I've served with you, and I know that's full of crap. You saved my life Jack."

"Carter…"

"You saved Cassie. She and Daniel, and Teal'c, and the whole planet earth, are they worth less than one life, Jack? Is allowing an accident to happen to your son, is that so horrible it undoes all the really great things you did for him? You're a good man. And a good father."

And she believes it. She knows what happened. She even knows more about the black ops stuff, or at least can make a better guess about it than anyone I've ever met, and she still believes that I am a good person. The warmth curls up from my heart.

"The moment you found out I was having a baby you found a place for me in your life. You didn't have to do that. You didn't have to love her," she says nodding to our daughter.

"I wanted to, Sam, more than anything," I say taking the baby back from her. "She's my redemption."

"I love you Jack," she says kissing my shoulder, "even the dark parts of your heart." She leans her head against me for a moment, before he says in a very soft voice, "I love you all the more for the darkness."

And it's true. Sam is attracted to darkness in the same way I can never shake it. We were meant for each other in some cosmic way. She can actually accept my screw-ups.

I feel lighter than I have in a long time. Since Charlie died. I look over to thank her, but she's asleep. How hard has this been on her? Serendipity is sleeping too, so I think it's probably time for a family nap. I scooch down in the bed, and I notice Sam still has a firm grip on my hand, even in her sleep. I feel my mouth stretch into a smile, and I have the feeling that is something that is going to be on my face a lot more frequently in the future.

*In case you're concerned 'Dipity' and 'Dipity-doo' are nicknames the girl is going to have as a baby and toddler. So don't worry about Jack embarrassing her in front of her first boyfriend with those names. You know what? Actually, do worry about that. But it won't be a daily occurrence at that point. Also I've been informed Dipity-doo is a hair gel from the 1970's - that's not what I'm referencing here. I'm way too young to reference that. I was thinking of the song, "Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah, zip-a-dee-ay, my oh my what a wonderful day…" Except I thought the words were "Dipity-Doo-Dah, Dippity-Day" until my beta corrected me. Apparently this is another one of the things my mom taught me wrong just to see if she could. I thought I finally had all of those sorted out, but every now and again I find another one. It's always great to be a science experiment

**This is a description of a real product I saw at a craft show. At which point I turn to the friend I was with and say, "Most people come here to get ideas for crafts when they go to a craft show. Me…just ideas for my fan fiction stories."


	19. Family Vacation

Warning: Another chapter that earns the story the "M" rating.

**Jack**

When I first suggested a family vacation Sam flipped her lid. I mean I suppose it was a little crazy. Especially since with a broken leg I can't actually help her with the driving. But, we could use a little break before we both head back to work next week. I've been working for the last three weeks of course, but only paperwork and I've been doing it at home. Sam thought my fear of computers was so ridiculous that her scoffing at it alone cured me. Sam's maternity leave is up. And when she goes back I'll be going back to the base, for another month of paperwork before this blasted cast comes off. Plus, I really want Dad to meet the kids, and although he sounds better (at least on the phone) I know he's probably not going to be coming to us.

"You sure she'll be ok?" Sam asks looking at Serendipity.

"There is a hospital only fifteen minutes from the cabin, Sam and she's been off antibiotics for a while. Besides, she's technically not a preemie anymore. Her due date was two weeks ago."

"I know, but…"

"You worry, I get it, we don't have to do this Sam."

"Family vacation," she smiles vaguely.

"You ever went on one, Carter?"

She shakes her head, "I guess the whole family vacation thing isn't quite as awesome when you are moving every couple of years."

I nod.

"But our kids, they'll get this whole normal, family thing," she says with a smile.

**Sam**

Bill comes out of the cabin when he hears our wheels on the driveway.

"Grandpa?" Cassie asks.

He nods his head and she runs into his arms. A grin crosses his face, but it's one of those grins that's only in the mouth. Jack has that kind of grin sometimes, other times it's real.

I get out of the car and go to get Serendipity out of her car seat while Jack walks over to give his dad a hug.

"And this is the other one," Bill asks looking into my arms.

"Yep," Jack says practically bursting with pride.

"Wow, she's got hair!" he explains. That's people's most common comment when they see our little thing. She does have a lot of hair for a baby. It's gotten a lot lighter. She's going to be a blond just like her Mom. I just hope she never gets called a dumb blond like I did.

"Yeah, gorgeous," Jack says and he ruffles Cassie's hair as he says it, "both my girls are gorgeous." I love the way that Jack always includes Cassie in the things he says about Serendipity. No way the child could get jealous of the baby with Jack around.

Cassie pulls on his shirt making him lean down so he can hear her better. He grins as he stands back up, "that's right Cass, all three of my girls are gorgeous."

"Well, I think it's time for Dipity to have another meal," I say. The one day drive fest was transformed into a two day odyssey by the addition of two children. We had to stop every two to four hours or so to feed and change the baby and let Cassie out of the car.

Then, there was stopping to eat. Before, we just drove through a drive-through and called it good. But I've really been big on not letting Cassie eat fast food. Partly because, it would be quite a shock to her system considering the homemade food she's used to. Also, I've read enough to realize that fast food is an evil that is destroying our society as well as our health. Good enough for me, not good enough for my kid.

Also, fourteen hours is too long of a day with little kids, so we split the journey into two days and still I think the kids are pretty jetlagged.

"Ok, you go feed the baby, we'll get our stuff unloaded and then I'll show Cassie the lake."

"You know, Jack, you can feed Dipity, this time" I remind him. I'm going back to work next week, so we're getting Serendipity switched over to formula. Janet recommended a gradual switchover, and this next feeding is formula.

"Sweet," Jack says with a grin. He loves feeding Serendipity. He says it lets him have a closer relationship with his daughter. I can understand that. I've always thought that feeding my daughter was pretty much the most amazing experience ever. He reaches for the diaper bag. He's gotten really good at carrying things with crutches. But I decide that my carrying the kid in is going to be easier than rigging her up to the Mei Tai this time.

"Grab your bag, Cass," I tell her as she tries to run into the house without doing anything. I've been trying to teach her to be more responsible, but it's been an uphill battle.

Cassie goes back and grabs her suitcase with an eye roll she doesn't think I see and that I pretend that I don't see. Sometimes I'm just too tired to fight the battle. I grab my bag with my spare hand and Bill grabs a bag of food. Without being asked. I lay Dipity down on the couch with blankets on either side of her so she doesn't roll off. Then I show Cassie her bedroom and drop off the bag in mine. By the time I come back from the bedrooms Bill has half of the food bags unloaded. He's definitely doing better. He showered and cleaned the place up. Those two things could have been in preparation for us coming, but the cleaning looks like more than a superficial fixing up. Like anyone would do for company, not like someone who was starting with fifthly. It looks like…he's becoming functional again. As he opens up a cupboard and I see that there is actually food in them. Mostly canned chili, but still, that counts as cooking after a fashion.

After I'm done with the loads, I start working on setting up the portable crib. Cassie and Dipity will be sharing a room for the next week. It's not ideal. But Jack informed me that family vacations are not supposed to be ideal. "Go on and unpack, Sam, I've got this," he says.

"Thanks," I say kissing him on the cheek. He looks up with a startled expression on his face. Maybe I went too far with that.

"No problem Sam," he says.

Jack brings Dipity in from the kitchen using the Mei Tai after she's been fed. He spreads a blanket down on the floor and deposits Dipity on it, "tummy time, baby girl."

"Your dad seems to be doing well," I tell him.

He looks kind of uncomfortable.

"Don't you think so?" I ask.

"Yeah, look Dad didn't necessarily want me to share this with anyone, but he's…"

"Taking medicine?" I ask.

He nods.

"You might have saved him."

"Let's talk about something else."

"Right, you probably feel like you're betraying some confidence here. Just know that you're a good man Jack O'Neill," I say kissing him.

After we've unpacked, I strap Dipity up in the Mei Tai. I've taken to wearing Dipity when Jack isn't. I like the feeling of having her close to me, especially when she's sleeping. Dipity really likes to sleep cuddled against one of us. I hope it isn't going to be too much of a shock for her when I go back to work. I didn't expect to feel guilty about going back to work. Amazing how different it is to have a baby than what I thought. Even with all the planning I did before the baby came.

Jack has a chair and a rod for each of us out on the dock. He put a worm on Cassie's hook in a way that she didn't have to see it, but left my worm for me to do. He knows both of us so well.

I reach over and grab Jack's hand; he turns and grins at me.

"What does hand holding mean?" Cassie asks.

"Love," Jack says.

Cassie smiles.

We sit there fishing in the lake with no fish for the hours that remain before bedtime. I had a tiny warm baby curled onto my chest and there is laughter and jokes and love. And Bill is acting different, more I suspect like he used to act before he battled depression for the first time. I like this Bill. Not that I didn't like the other Bill. But this one is so much healthier, so much happier. I like family vacations.

**Jack**

The bed at the cabin is a full, a small feeling full, so we're practically on top of each other. Not that I'm complaining. I like cuddling.

"It's been six weeks since I had a baby," Sam whispers.

"I know," I say, not quite sure where she's going with this.

"You don't make a face when someone hugs you anymore, even when Cassie sort of slams into you. Your ribs must be better."

"Carter, you're going to have to give me a cheat sheet to this conversation."

She presses her body against me, inch for inch. She wraps an arm against me and starts nuzzling my neck.

"You sure Samantha?" I ask.

"Very sure," she says as she wraps her legs around me. I feel her wet and ready against me. I feel my temperature raising. I reach under the t-shirt she's wearing, one of mine, and stroke her heavy breast.

"Surer than that," she says rolling me under her. Her fingers run across me, barely touching me, bringing me into a state of arousal very quickly.

She guides me into her, and based on how quickly things have been going so far, I expect that this is going to be over fast. But as soon as I'm inside of her she does this thing where she squeezes tight around me. We are held in a perfect second.

"Jack, you make me feel so full, so fulfilled," she whispers.

As much as I'm enjoying this compliment in the first part I know that I have to deal with the deep issue in the second. Even though I'd rather not right now, when I've got so many glorious sensations distracting me.

I lean close and whisper in her hear, "Sam, you don't need a man to fulfill you. You're perfect. You're a genius, gorgeous, hilarious, brilliant."

I actually have more compliments for her, but she's whisper screaming my name, and spasming around me.

"God Jack," she whispers when laying on me spent a few minutes later.

"I think I need to talk more," I say.

She laughs, "You really believe all that stuff you said?"

"That and more, Samantha," I say rolling us over so we're both cuddling on our side, "You have to know how amazing you are. No one can make you whole, because you were born like that."

"I love you so much Jack," she says nuzzling her head into the crook of my neck. She kisses me, "I know you're not done, just give me a minute."

"Hey, Sam, I'm perfectly content with this…it was amazing from my end too."

"I lasted like eight seconds," she says with a laugh.

"Which to a guy is a compliment," I tell her.

She trails a hand down my belly in slow motions until she reaches lower. "Thought you were going to talk, Jack."

"Not sure I can when you're doing that," I mutter.

**Sam**

I smell and hear coffee perking in the kitchen. I hear the sound of eggs cracking, and frying up in a pan. Plates banging together. At first, I think its Dad; he's usually in charge of breakfast. But Dad went home a few days before the trip. I figure it's got to be Jack. But I roll over, and he's still there.

I'm really hoping it doesn't involve Cassie and hot surfaces.

I slip to the edge of the bed, and slip on pajama pants. Jack says I use them like a robe. I sleep in just a shirt and underwear, but wear pajama pants until I slip under the covers, and as soon as I crawl out of them. Since the baby came this has been a couple times a night, but I still can't stand to leave them on.

I head into the kitchen to see Bill cooking.

"Good morning," I say.

"It is," he responds handing me a cup of coffee.

"I'm glad you're…better," I offer. I know he probably doesn't want to talk about it, but I feel like he should know how happy I am.

"I'd forgotten how amazing the world was. It's been a long time…" he offers.

"I'm glad you're back in the world," I say giving him a hug.

Serendipity cries, "I'll be back to enjoy that coffee in a little bit," I tell Bill.

I pick up my daughter. It's a breastfeeding turn. It suddenly occurs to me that this is one of the last times I'll ever breastfeed her. There aren't any chairs and the only bed in the room is the one Cassie is sleeping on, so I sit down on the floor.

I watch Serendipity as she drinks. She's so perfect. I'm so lucky. I think back to what Jack said last night. I don't need someone to fulfill me. And that is something that I need to hear. Something I needed to believe. But it's not entirely true. I do need Jack to be whole and my two little girls too. But I also know…I don't need them like I've needed other people. My whole life I've been dependent on others. For approval, for affection, to tell me I'm good enough. But now I'm interdependent. I still rely on them, but they rely on me just as much. And one of my most desperate needs is to be needed. My daughter right now is relying on me for food. I'm going to miss this. This intimate way of meeting her needs.

I want to stay with her. Before she was born I thought I was going to miss working so much. But now that I have her, and have Cassie, I really don't want to go back to work. I'm going to miss so much. But I know I'm going back. I miss that too. It's complicated.

The world is so beautiful, Bill is right. And it's been a whole lot more beautiful in the last almost year that I've been part of a family again.

Cassie opens up her eyes, "Morning, Mom," she says with a tired smile and her eyes only half awake.

My heart soars. She's never called me that before, but I'm not sure if she's awake enough to mean it. "Morning Cass," I say.

She stretches and opens her eyes completely, "Geez, Mom, you could warn someone!"

She meant to call me Mom! "Sorry Cass, I thought you'd be used to this by now."

"Just think, in one more week I'll never have to see it again."

I try to hide the fact that that makes me a little sad.

"Are you going to miss being home with us?" Cassie asks.

"Yeah, I am sweetie," I say, "but I miss the Stargate too."

"You get both things this way," she says cheerfully. "You can go to other planets, and then at night you can come home to us."

"You're right, Cassie, I am one lucky woman. Now, your Grandpa is making breakfast, go and get some," I say giving her a nod, "We'll be in after your sister is done with her breakfast."

**Jack**

"You're missing breakfast," Sam says handing me a cup of coffee.

"You made breakfast already this morning?" I ask in sleepy shock.

"Your dad did," she says.

"What?" I ask.

"He thinks the world is wonderful, you did a good thing," she says grinning at me. I start to get out of the bed, "Jack, do you think the world is wonderful?" She rushes on even faster, "I mean…are you happy? I'm not talking about your depression right now. I mean this whole…family thing…how do you feel about it?"

"Sam, I can't believe you have to ask. It's…better than anything. I am happy. You make me happy. I love you, and I love our kids, and I wouldn't change it for anything."

"Ok, just checking. I wouldn't want my happiness to come at the price of yours," she says.

"Our happiness kind of goes together."

"That it does."

We walk out and sit down to a breakfast Dad prepared. I don't ever remember him making anything like that when we were growing up. It's probably a skill that he acquired in the decades since I knew him.

"So, Sam, I heard you're going back to work next week," Dad says.

"Yeah," she nods, "back to a front line team."

"SG-1," I say casually, even though this sort of borders on classified. But I'm not sure if she knows.

"No, Jack, SG-2," she says sounding confused.

"No, Sam, I told you when you went back to work you'd have your old job back."

"But Siler has been doing my job for awhile," she protests.

"He wants to go back to his old job. Major Ferretti is excited to get command of SG-1 and Casey, Vernon, and Coburn will be my team.

"Jack, can I speak to you in the bedroom for a minute?" she asks.

"Your food is going to get cold," I warn.

She just stands up and walks into the bedroom. I follow her.

"Jack, you can't do this," she says.

"Sam, your career is not suffering, because we had a baby. End of story."

"Yours shouldn't either," she says.

"I've had my whole career. I'm a Colonel; I'm probably going to retire a Colonel. You're a Captain who will probably retire as a General. You need this more. And every time SG-1 goes through the gate without an astrophysicist they risk never coming back. They need you."

"They need you too."

"Soldiers are a dime a dozen. They could find a hundred people to do my job. Hell, Sam you could do my job."

She shakes her head, "No, I couldn't even come close to doing it."

"Not yet, maybe, another year or two with that gate, and you'll be able to do it no problem. You need to do this for me…please.

"Thank you," she whispers giving me a hug. "Does…Hammond know?"

"Everyone does, I even though you did."

"I know you said that…months ago, but I thought, now that it was real…"

"SG-1, Samantha, that's yours."


	20. There but for the Grace of God

**Sam**

For the first time all summer Jack is driving to work. He's had the cast off for a week now and has pretty much returned to normal activities. But, this is the first time he's driving and I'm a little nervous about it.

"Are you going through the gate today?" Cassie asks. We are dropping Dipity and Cassie off at the on-base day care.

"I am, honey, but Jack will pick you up after day care. I told you, we'll never be going on a mission at the same time."

Actually Jack isn't quite cleared for active duty yet. But I'm not about to bring that up. He's doing a couple of hours of physical therapy every day, even though he's only required to do one. I'm pretty sure they'll have him back in the rotation in no time.

"Do you have to call it day care?" Cassie asks, "Day care is for babies."

"Day care is also for twelve year olds who cannot be left alone for eight hours," Jack says. Cassie had better get used to the concept of day care. I have my suspicions that she's going to be in day care for a lot longer than the average person. Jack probably won't want her to be alone when she's thirty.

"Besides, you have your painting supplies, make something amazing," I say. Cassie has really been into painting ever since she came to earth. From what I can tell, she didn't do much of it before, although she did like it. But, it's been her way of dealing with all the crazy changes that have come into her life in the last few months. Really, I'm just surprised she's dealing with everything as well as she is.

**Daniel**

Sam has been back on SG-1 for almost five weeks and is just now hitting her stride. She doesn't defy Ferretti like she does Jack. She also doesn't offer her opinion to him as often, she's much more of the 'good little soldier' than she was with Jack. But she's still acting like Sam, that strange mix of scientist and soldier, doctor and captain that saves the world. But in the eight missions since Sam's been back we haven't had to save the world, in fact nothing of great importance has happened.

This world doesn't seem like it's going to be the one to break our losing streak. We enter a room, and in the low light I can see that there has been some sort of battle going on. The architecture doesn't look Goa'uld like, it looks futuristic and technological.

"There is damage. It appears to have been done by Goa'uld weaponry. I do not believe this battle took place recently," Teal'c says.

"No bodies," I say into my video recorder.

Sam looks at a device that looks like a giant steering wheel. She calls me over, "Daniel. Do you recognize any of these symbols?"

I walk over and look at what she is looking at. The symbols don't look like any of the languages I've read or have seen since walking through the gate. I'm not even sure it is a language. "No. This place is definitely alien." I see a door that opens further on, "Wonder what's behind curtain number two."

"Take Carter and check it out," Ferretti says.

Sam and I walk into another room. A low lab bench is covered with things that I can't help but recognize as artifacts. Sam is drawn to the windows that are covered in what I would guess was their form of newspapers. It has the same writing on them as the strange device in the other room. I can see why Sam is attracted to them, because they look like a computer motherboard.

"I think this is a lab," I say.

"How do you know?" she asks.

"These are things that they brought back through the Stargate from other planets to study. They're all tagged. This is a Turkanese mask. This is a clay cone from Lagash with cuneiform symbols on it."

"Carter! Daniel!" Ferretti calls from the other room.

"Found a souvenir shop, sir," Sam says cavalierly. I have mixed feelings about this comment. I'm glad that she's finally feeling comfortable enough to joke with our new team, but I'm also annoyed that she's treating this so cavalierly.

"Move out," Ferretti says.

"What? Why? Thi—this place is a treasure chest of artifacts from diverse human cultures."

"We don't have time for this, let's go," Ferretti says.

I'm frustrated, so I try to grab the most useful things. I grab something small, mostly because I don't think it's breakable. Then I throw a big tower like thing in, because it has a lot of words. They are in Mayan, which I can't translate off the top of my head, but which I can with access to the proper reference material. Then I see a strange heart shaped device with pink and blue buttons on it. As I pick it up to examine it, I see a mirror go shiney behind me. I walk toward it. Strange. I don't seem to have a reflection in this mirror

In the background I hear, "Daniel! We're leaving. Let's go."

I touch the mirror and feel a slight electric shock. The light of the room changes color ever so slightly. I know Ferretti is going to be incredibly annoyed with me, but I know that this device is very important. I don't know why yet, but I know it is.

"Guys, I need a hand with this thing. It's too heavy for me to move, but we have to take it…back," I say running out to the room where the Gate is. No one is there; crap, they left me again, "Lou? Sam? Teal'c?" I ask. The Stargate isn't even on anymore, "Oh, I really hate it when this happens." Well, I can yell at them when I get home. I type the Earth's address into the DHD and the gate lights up. I put my iris code in and am granted access. When I get through the gate I see a bunch of people pointing weapons at me. Usually they lower them the moment they see a friendly face.

"Close the iris!" one of them shouts. I glance back to see the iris close. When I turn back, the guns are still pointed at me and I can't figure out why.

"Hands on your head. Now! Or we will open fire," one of them shouts.

I obey while wearily asking, "What's going on?"

"Identify yourself," he barks back.

"Daniel Jackson, SG-1," I say confused. Suddenly I want to take another glance in that mirror to see if I look different for some reason. Although it wouldn't help since I can't see myself in it. General Hammond walks into the room and I breathe a sigh of relief, "General, what's this all about?"

"General? You see stars anywhere on my uniform?" he says sounding strangely like Jack.

"Colonel. He says he's on SG-1," the SF says to him.

"Colonel?" I say looking at the General, confused. Someone comes up behind me and begins to handcuff me.

"How did you get an SG-1 remote iris deactivation device?" 'Colonel' Hammond demands.

"What are you talking about?" I ask.

"Who the hell are you?" Hammond demands. They carry me out of the gate room, even though I am perfectly capable of walking for myself. I try to kick and struggle my way out of their arms, but I'm smart enough to know I don't have a chance in hell against Air Force training. They are trying to shove me into an MRI machine.

"I'm Dr. Daniel Jackson, SG-1! I need to see Jack O'Neill! Ask Sam Carter! Come on!"

"I am not a Goa'uld!" I insist. I see a strange doctor, getting a syringe ready. I'm starting to wonder if we might be having a foothold incident, "Don't give me that! Where's Dr. Fraiser? Don't give me that." I take a deep breath, because I know I'm not going to get any results by acting upset, "I am Dr. Daniel Jackson. I need to see Colonel O'Neill."

"You mean General O'Neill?" the doctor asks. What the hell is going on?

I come back to consciousness and sit up and take in my surroundings. I guess all those lectures Jack has given me over the years are finally starting to kick in. I can't see much without my glasses on. I spy my glasses on a table across the room. I walk over and slip them on and then give the room a more complete look over. It looks like the group quarters of the SGC. A bunk bed, a bed and a table. That's all. I walk over to the door and try to open it. I figured by now someone would have done a DNA test and figured out I am who I say I am. Even though I'm not sure they are who they say they are. But no such luck. The door is locked. They still think I'm someone dangerous.

"Hello! I have to speak to someone!" I turn and walk away, because my hand is starting to hurt. I shake it out hoping the pain will go away so I can continue knocking later if my earlier attempts were to no avail. The door unlocks revealing a Marine wearing the camouflage they seem to favor in whatever strange place we're in. The Marine walks to the side revealing Catherine in BDU's a strange but welcome sight.

"Catherine!" I explain with relief.

"You know me?" she says with confusion and perhaps even a touch of fear.

"Of course. You don't know me?" I ask frustrated.

She references a book in order to form her answer, "Dr. Daniel Jackson. Linguist, Ancient Egyptian Historian. Better known for some of your more radical ideas. At the moment, I am more interested in how you came through my Stargate."

"How I—"I adjust my glasses, "Your Stargate? What the hell is going on here, Catherine?"

"I prefer you address me as Dr. Langford," she says with a note of bitterness, "You were wearing a remote device when you came through the Gate. You had SG-1's code. How did you obtain it?"

"How did I— how do you think I did it?" I say losing my patience with whatever game I'm being forced to play…and lose, " I left from here: Stargate Command. Today. A few hours ago. I went through on a mission to—to—to P3R-233."

"What are you talking about? You've never been in this facility until now."

I let out an involuntary laugh and start using my hands to talk like I do when I'm with a culture who barely speaks English. This conversation has the same feel to it as that. "Okay, um. I figured out how to work the Stargate. You recruited me to translate the cartouche found at Giza. I went through on the first mission through the Stargate to Abydos. And unless the last two years have been some wacky, wacky dream, I am a member of SG-1."

"Not as far as I'm concerned."

"Wh—what?" I'm not sure where to go from here. After I tell the whole truth and am not believed what exactly is my next course of action?

"I supervised the team that translated the cartouche found at Giza."

"You did?" I ask confused and angry. There goes my belief that the Stargate program actually needs me.

"I admit we referenced your work occasionally. I even went to meet you at one of your seminars to ask you to joins us. But you said no," she says huffily.

"I did?" I turned down the most amazing thing that ever happened to me? I must be stupid.

"You were quite rude, actually."

"Oh, I was?  
Catherine lets out a sigh and looks down at the folder that is in her hands, "The MRI confirms you are not a Goa'uld."

"Could I see Captain Carter?" I ask again. Her knowledge of the Stargate means that she is probably the most likely to believe me.

"Samantha Carter?"

"Yes!"

"She's not in the military. She's a doctor. Ph.D. Astrophysics. She's attending to more important business at the moment. Don't you have any explanation for this?"

I'm supposed to explain this? I'm yelling at her now, "No! God, no! Catherine—! I— I mean, Dr. Langford— No, this doesn't make any sense. I—I know you! I belong here! You…don't."

She looks like I've severely wounded her, "Excuse me?"

"You were retired. Uh, at least the Air Force made you retire. You are supposed to be at home, living happily ever after with Ernest."

She looks shocked, "What?"

"The man you were supposed to marry in 1945." I say softer. I know I have her attention now.

**Daniel-Later**

My situation has improved, although I wouldn't say drastically improved. I'm now under guard in the briefing room. Jack comes out of General Hammond's office which is quite a shock for me.

"Jack!" I exclaim.

He starts talking to me with cool indifference that is very unJack-like, "Look, we're in the middle of a situation right now. I don't know who you are, but Dr. Langford says you might be able to help us?"

"Okay. This is starting to get a little bit spooky. Now, a few hours ago, everything about this place was different. I mean, well, I mean, not complete different. I mean, you're still you…sort of." Jack looks at Catherine with that trusting look he gives Sam and I. Explain this all. Make it all better. I realize for the first time how much I need Jack's approval and trust.

He turns back to me, "What can you tell me about the Goa'ulds?"

"What?" I say unable to adjust to this businesslike behavior.

"The Goa'uld. You know who they are?"

"Uhhhh. Yeah?"

"Tell me what you know."

"Okay. Now, maybe I've completely lost my mind here," I take a step toward Jack and the guard takes a step toward me, "but as far as I'm concerned, we know each other very well. You know everything that I know." Jack just continues to stare at me without even blinking. I pull at the SG-1 patch on my jacket, "Look, I'm a member of SG-1 with you, Captain Carter and Teal'c!" Teal'c, how come that didn't occur to me earlier, "Wher— where is Teal'c?" I'm still not getting any response, "Uh, big guy. Gold emblem on his head. Goa'uld in his stomach. You can't miss him."

"A Jaffa?" Jack asks.

"Yes. He's our—our friend?"

He's obviously disgusted by the mere idea of being friends with a Jaffa.

"Get this man out of here, now!"

Catherine walks after him pleading my case, "How'd he come through the Gate? How does he know the things he knows?"

She got his attention, I'm going to use it, "According to Dr. Langford, you solved the Gate without me. Did you still go to Abydos with the intention of blowing up a nuclear device?"

He turns and looks at me, "How did you know that?" he says with an accusation.

"You were willing to commit suicide because your son had recently died. He— he shot himself with your gun, right?" Jack walks toward me while fixing a glare at Catherine.

"I swear I didn't tell him anything," Catherine says.

"So, did you still go to Chulak?" I ask him.

"What is Chulak?" she asks.

"The Jaffa home world," I say.

"Do you know the symbols?" Catherine asks like a kid in a candy store.

"Yes," she opens a notebook on the table, "What, do you want me to write it down?"

"Yes!" she explains.

I take a pen and jot them down quickly. I don't want to have to take a break from this conversation until I know what is going on.

"So, if you've never been to Chulak, you've probably never even met Teal'c."

"Teal?" Jack asks. This annoys me, because it confirms my suspicion that he doesn't know Teal'c and because it's so Jack-like. Pretend you can't understand the word so no one will ever figure out you're smart.

"No, Teal'c! Oh, everything's screwed up. Why?"

Sam walks in. She's wearing a nice suit with a name badge hanging off of it. She's got long hair.

"Sam!" I exclaim.

Her face gets a look of concerned confusion on it, "Who is this?" she asks Jack.

"Dr. Jackson," Catherine answers, "The young man who came through the Stargate with the SG-1 remote code.

"Report, Doctor?" Jack commands.

"We've lost Washington and Philadelphia, sir," she says gravely.

I look around the room, waiting for someone to explain it to me.

"I'm sorry. What do you mean by lost?" I ask. Everyone looks to Jack, waiting for his decision.

"Show him," Jack says. Sam gestures for me to follow her out of the room. I see a map.

"Every one of those red dots is a destroyed city," Sam explains. There is a lot of red on that map. Not good.

Catherine sits down with me and makes me repeat the whole story of how I got here with a lot of details.

"What the hell are they doing down there?"

"Sir, isn't our mission to get the Genesis list through to the beta site?" Sam says to Jack.

"I think we'll try to stop the attack on Earth first." Jack says.

I look at Catherine who I've discovered is the one most likely to actually answer my questions, "What is this Genesis list? Beta site? What does she mean?"

"We're evacuating everyone we can to another planet: World leaders, Scientists, doctors," she explains.

"You're sending a nuclear weapon to Chulak?" I say in disbelief to Jack.

"You got a problem with that?" he asks.

"The Jaffa aren't your enemy. They're just slaves," I tell him.

"All right. Try to comprehend what's going on here. We estimate the death toll to Earth as 1.5 billion," he says angrily, "Who do you think is flying those ships trying to blow up our world, hmm? You give me one good reason why I shouldn't be striking back."

"They have no choice," I insist.

"Send the bomb," he says turning away from me. I watch in horror as the bomb slowly floats through the event horizon and the iris closed behind it.

"Proceed with evacuation until that next warhead is ready," Jack says coolly.

"You know there are innocent human beings on most of the Goa'uld planets, don't you?" I tell Jack.

"Unless this man has more information we can use, I don't want to see him again," Jack says to Catherine before he marches out of the room.

"This isn't happening. This is nuts. This isn't happening. This isn't happening," I repeat pacing, "Is it— is it possible that the Stargate malfunctioned or went haywire and—and—and I came through into a totally screwed-up different version of Earth?"

"No, I doubt that. The Stargate uses space/time to create a wormhole that allows us to travel across great distances, but it doesn't take you to an alternate reality," Sam says.

"Alternate reality?" I ask.

"Well, basically, scientists have theorized that there are an infinite number of dimensions, each containing a different possible version of reality," she explains.

"Well, it sounds like I theoretically, possibly, actually found one."

"One what?" Catherine says. I'm glad it's not just me having a little trouble following the conversation. It must be something all archeologists would get lost with.

"What Sam said. A—A—An alternate reality. A parallel plane. Wouldn't that explain why everything here is the same, but…different?" I ask.

"Okay, the theory is that there are an infinite number of alternate realities, some of them are very different and some are almost identical," Sam says.

"That has to be what this is. So this isn't my world at all. This is some sort of—other dimension?"

"Yeah, but the Stargate wouldn't cause that," Sam says.

"Maybe it wasn't the Stargate that caused it," Sam explains.

"What are you suggesting?" Sam asks.

"He found a mirror, possibly made of naquadah on P3R-233," Catherine explains.

"All of this started to happen after I touched it," I add.

"P3R-233?" she asks, perking up when she hears the alphanumeric code.

"What, have you been there?"

"Yes."

Sam hands me a tape player and has me listen to a message on it, "The first part sounds like a derivation of Ancient Egyptian," I say.

"We couldn't recognize it," Catherine explains.

"Oh, you didn't learn how to speak it aloud on Abydos," I say knowing I sound a little bit cocky right now, "Where did this come from?" I ask, pausing the tape.

"It's a deep-space transmission our receivers picked up about three months ago."

"So…why are you showing this to me now?" I ask.

"Because the transmission originated from the same quadrant of space as P3R-233," Sam explains.

"Where your mirror is," Catherine adds.

An explosion occurs over head. No one can leave, because the gate is under attack and we know there is an alien ship landed right on top of the mountain.

"We went to 233 after we received the transmission, but the civilization had been destroyed by the Goa'ulds. We didn't find any mirror, though."

Sam reads what I wrote down on the paper, "'Beware the destroyers.'"

"Some of the 233 aliens must have sent out the warning before their civilization was destroyed by the Goa'ulds," Catherine says.

"What does the rest say?" Carter asks.

"It just says, "They come from…" but th—the sentence is incomplete. There's just more sounds, pulses or beats of some kind," I say.

"Yeah. We've analyzed them. They're divided into groups: 3, 32, 16, 8, 10 and 12," Sam explains.

"That's six numbers," I inform them.

"Yeah," Sam says.

"That's a Stargate address, just without the point of origin,"

""Beware the destroyers. They come from 3, 32, 16, 8, 10 and 12."" I repeat.

"Could the aliens on 233 have found out where the Goa'uld attack originated from?" Catherine asks.

"What, like a Goa'uld home world?" Sam asks.

"Or at least a—a military base. They must have assigned a number to each symbol on the Stargate. It's a code! All we need to do is figure out which symbol the aliens used to represent the number one and start counting from there," I say excited.

"Well, the only unique symbol they would have is the point of origin for 233," Sam says.

"But that symbol may not even be on our Stargate," Catherine protests.

"Except I have the alien Gate on tape."

"What?" she asks. I pull out my video camera.

**Daniel-Later Still**

"How's it going up there, General?" Hammond asks.

"Getting the crap beat out of us. How's it going here?" Jack asks spreading his hands out over the map.

"I'm estimating it will be 25 before we can try to open the Gate again." Sam says. She gives much shorter science answers to Jack in this world, or maybe it's just a symptom of being up against certain death.

"And when we do, Dr. Langford here has presented us with an interesting dilemma. She seems to think we've been handed the address to a Goa'uld home world possibly where this attack originated," Hammond says.

"We'll send a bomb through," Jack says as if it is obvious.

"Excuse me?" I ask in shock, turning from my work in figuring out the Goa'uld world's address, "Um, I know you think of me as an outsider here, but what good will that do? I mean, forget the fact that it won't change what's happening here, how do you know they don't have some kind of iris like yours? I mean, this could all be for nothing."

"Yeah, we probably only have one shot at dialing out. If we use that one opportunity to dial a Goa'uld world, we'll never get out of here ourselves."

The video camera scans against SG-1, which leaves a huge impression on the people standing there.

"My God!" Catherine exclaims.

"What the hell's that?" Jack says moving within inches of the camera.

"My reality." I explain.

"We are actually looking at ourselves in a parallel universe. Another version of our lives that— that actually exists. It's incredible," Sam says laughing a little.

"It's supposed to be theoretical," Jack says in a gruff tone that lets us know how ill at ease he is with all of this.

"Not anymore. What first began with Einstein's theories about relativity—" there are the science explanations I've grown so used to.

"Who is this?" Hammond asks pointing at the scene.

"That is Teal'c. Big guy, gold emblem on his head, Goa'uld in his…stomach," I say repeating my first description of him.

"We just saw him on the security camera. He's the Jaffa that led the invasion into the base," Catherine says warily.

"Well, he was and probably still is, the First Prime of Apophis. He would be charged with the most important mission. Look, this is going to sound pretty selfish, but where I come from none of this has happened yet. In my reality, the Earth that I know still has a chance," I say desperately.

"You want to explain that?" Jack says cynically.

"If this address really does lead to the Goa'uld world where this attack originated and I can get this information back to my world, then maybe I can stop this before it starts there," I explain.

"Wh—what makes you think the Goa'uld are even going to try attacking Earth in your universe?" Sam asks.

"Oh, I'd say we've pissed the Goa'uld off just as much as you have, probably even more," I say with a little bit of a laugh.

"All right. W—wait a minute. Let me get this straight. You want us to give up what might be our last chance to strike back at the Goa'uld so we can save ourselves in a— in a—" He looks at Sam, "Wh—what?"

"Alternate reality," she supplies.

"Not just yourselves, everyone on Earth," I press.

"Your Earth!" he begs.

"The Jack O'Neill that I know would do it!"

"Well, apparently, you and I have never met," he says in exasperation.

"No…I guess not," I say disapprovingly.

I break eye contact with Jack after a long stare. "Look, all I know is that because I came here, I have seen what can happen. Now I have a chance to keep this from happening to the Earth that I come from, if you help me."

Everyone looks to Jack with admiration, "How much time, Doctor?"

"22 minutes," she says.

"All right, so the argument is academic. We can never hold them that long anyway."

"Well, maybe we can buy some time," I say contemplatively.

"How?" he asks.

"Not how. Who," I say, "You saw the videotape. In my reality, Jack O'Neill convinced Teal'c to betray Apophis to save our lives. Teal'c gave up everything for the slim chance that we could help free his people from slavery."

"It doesn't exactly look like we could help him do anything right now. Keep in mind that we just sent a bomb off to his planet. There might not be anything left for him to save," Jack says. You expect me to explain all this to him, don't you?"

"He's very smart. I'd bet he'll understand." I defend.

"How do you know he's even remotely the same Jaffa you know in your universe?" Carter says. I wonder if Sam worries about Jack in every reality.

"Not everything's the same here," Catherine adds.

"No, it's not. But it is close. Look, I know what I am asking here, it's insane. Look, if you don't want to help, I understand. It's your lives and it's your world," I tell them.

"All I really have to do is buy a little time, a few minutes to get the Gate open, right?" Jack asks.

"That videotape of that Jaffa and you together should catch his attention," Catherine says and I go to grab it.

"You're going to talk to this guy about alternate realities?" Hammond asks in shock.

"Do you really think he's right about this Jaffa?" Sam asks walking in front of Jack.

"He was right about my son." Jack says.

I hand him the video camera and give him a heartfelt, "Thank you."

"I think this is where you all wish me good luck," Jack says looking at us stoically. He turns to walk away.

"Jack," Sam says with a voice I've never heard her use on base. It's the kind of voice she saves for him at home. She walks in front of him and they lock eyes for a long moment.

"Come 'ere," Jack mouths to her and they are in each other's arms in a second. They nuzzle into each other's necks and rock back and forth for a long time. I turn to Catherine in surprise.

"I take it they're not engaged in your reality," Catherine says.

"No, they have a baby, but…they sort of thought she was an accident. They didn't think they'd be together if it wasn't for the baby."

It will be good for me to tell my Sam and Jack about this. They need to know that they aren't just together because of Dipity. And this Sam and Jack have decided to send me back through the gate. I owe their world something precious. Something so precious I will never be able to repay it.

**Sam**

Daniel is taking forever again. I am getting really sick of him being slow on missions. Doesn't he realize he's risking all our lives as well as his own?

I walk into the room to find him laying on the floor holding on to his arm which has what looks like a staff blast.

"Daniel!" I say kneeling down next to him.

"What the hell is this?" Ferretti asks.

"It appears to have been caused by a staff weapon," Teal'c says.

Daniel is clutching something in his hand. I unfold his fingers to get a look at it, "This looks like a Stargate address."

"All right. Let's get him back to Earth," Ferretti says.

"No!" Daniel says leaning forward grabbing onto him and breathing heavily "We're all in very big trouble. They're coming! They're coming."


	21. Serpent

**Jack**

It infuriates me that they are shutting down the SGC when we need it most. We sit in a room with drapes over the furniture. It's like they are closing it down right around us.

"Hammond's given up. They're going to bury the 'gate day after tomorrow," I announce to the new SG-1 and Siler…my fellow exile from the team.

"Then I must return through the Stargate as soon as possible," Teal'c says.

"Yes, we all should go through the 'gate as soon as possible," Daniel says.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, go through, to where?" Sam says looking concerned and reluctant. I've never seen Sam reluctant to go on a mission before. Of course, we're not exactly talking authorized mission right now and she hasn't been back at work long since the baby.

"To the coordinates I got in the other reality."

"Daniel, dammit!" I shout. I can't believe he is still harping on whatever dream he had in whatever world that was. Doesn't he realize that this is real life and that shutting down the Stargate is serious?

"Jack—it was real," he insists.

"Hey, even if it was, how do we know that that address correlates with this reality?" Sam cautions.

"Well, there's only one way to find out, isn't there?" Daniel says.

"We should enter the coordinates and attempt to open the 'gate," Teal'c is always a good one for stating the obvious.

"Okay, hold on. Has anyone considered that we would be in gross violation of orders? Sir, we would be court martialed the second we got back," Sam says looking at me. Looking at me like I'm her commanding officer again, even though I haven't been her commanding officer for the better part of a year.

"If. If we got back," I say slowly to make sure they get it. To make sure especially that I got it.

"Jack, if we don't go through, what I saw in the other reality could happen here. This whole planet could be wiped out. Now in the other reality, by the time I left, Cassie was dead, Serendipity was dead, Carter, your whole family was dead, hell, I was dead. Everyone was dead."

"Daniel, I got it," I say waving him off.

"Okay, well don't you think we should see if we can stop the same slaughter from happening here? Let me ask you something, Jack. If we don't go through now and the Goa'uld do attack later, how are you gonna to feel?" I turn away from them and scrub my face with my hands while looking at the gate.

"How are just the six of us going to stop the attack anyway, even if we do go through?" Sam says.

"Well, we'd have a lot better chance now than we would trying to stop an overwhelming onslaught later. Trust me—I have seen it," Daniel says desperately.

"If the coordinates are for a Goa'uld world which is not on the Abydos cartouche, the Goa'uld will most likely not expect us. I believe a medical attack could be successful," Teal'c informs me.

"Surgical attack, Teal'c. It's called a surgical attack and I'd feel like an idiot." I say.

"Sir?" Carter says in surprise.

"I was answering Daniel's question. If we don't do something now and they do attack later, I'd feel like an idiot. We go," I say.

"I too will go," Teal'c says.

"I'm in," Siler says.

"So am I," Ferretti says.

"I'm going," Sam says.

"We can't both go," I say.

"Sir, this is an unauthorized mission I don't think the frat rules apply."

"I know that Sam, but they exist for a reason. I won't risk both of our girl's parents on one mission," I whisper.

She nods.

"Rock paper scissors?" I ask.

"Winner goes or stays?" she asks.

"Goes," I say.

I pick scissors and she picks paper. Everyone has walked a few steps away to give us some privacy.

"You don't have to go either, Jack," she whispers.

"Sam, our kids are not going to be murdered by Goa'uld," he whispers. "You guard them, got it? You get a weapon at home and take care of those bastards if they come for our girls, got it?" Jack has never let me have a gun in the house before. It's a side effect of Charlie's death. He must actually be worried that the alien Goa'uld will be going door to door.

**Daniel**

We gated to the coordinates that I saw in the other reality. Right after arriving, Jack orders me to dial home. I don't know why I'm always the one that has to dial home. I mean, am I the only one who even knows the address?

The 'gate doesn't light up.

"Daniel?" Jack accuses when the 'gate fails to make a lock. Suddenly I'm wishing we had Sam along on this one. I'm getting the sinking feeling we might need her.

"What? I dialed home just like I've done a million times before," I say.

"Well, do it again," I do but nothing happens.

"Uh oh," I say. A door opens out of the wall. We all duck behind some fancy shipping crates. Six Jaffa come into the room, take a large crystal ball out of a box and light it up, before marching their retreat.

"I always get a happy tingly feeling when I see those guys," Jack says.

"Teal'c, what is this?" I ask.

"It is a Goa'uld long-range visual communication device. Somewhat like your television, only much further advanced," he says with a touch of scorn.

"Think it gets Showtime? Can you open that door?" Jack asks Teal'c.

"Now that I know its location, I believe I can," Teal'c says going over and effortlessly opening the door.

**Jack**

"Teal'c, why didn't you tell us we were on a ship?" I ask in shock.

"I was not sure. I have never been aboard a Goa'uld vessel such as this. Most accelerate very differently. Most do not contain Stargates," Teal'c says.

"The blast spread across this area like there was glass here. This is a force field of some sort," Siler says fascinated by what looks to me like a window.

"That is correct. There is no transparent material capable of withstanding this velocity," Teal'c says.

"Or temporal displacement. We're traveling faster than light, right?" Siler asks.

"That is correct," Teal'c replies. I was not aware that either Siler or Teal'c were capable of understanding this kind of technical talk. I thought that was Sam's personal prerogative.

"So the ship must have been in orbit around a planet when we 'gated here. Then it left orbit, which would explain why we can't 'gate home," Siler says.

"The point of origin isn't valid anymore," Daniel says in shock.

"Well, I suggest you figure out how to get us back home," I scold.

"Sir, the only way to do that would be to turn this thing around and go back to where we started," Siler says.

"Right, I'll just go tell the pilot," Daniel says snidely.

"Teal'c, you know how to fly one of these things?" I ask hopefully.

"Of this I am unsure. It appears to be of a new technology," he says, of course it is. Everything else about this mission has been brand new.

"So, you couldn't turn this tub around, I take it," I say.

"I am qualified only to pilot the Goa'uld death gliders. I suggest we relocate to another chamber as soon as possible. Royal sarcophagi are rarely left unattended for long," he says as we make our way out of the room.

**Daniel**

It's like Déjà vu, except a thousand times worse. I watched the whole world destroyed in another reality and now it looks like I get to watch it in this one. My stomach is twisted up in horrible knots.

"Jack? It's happening," I warn, staring out at the giant room full of death gliders, "We're on an attack ship headed to Earth."

"Okay. Well, we've got some problems then," he says trying to sound nonchalant. Trying and failing.

"Teal'c, how fast can this ship go?" Siler asks in concern.

"Goa'uld ha'tak vessels can travel at ten times the speed of light." Teal'c answers with concern.

"Okay, so if we are heading to Earth, then we have a long time," Siler says.

"Based on what?" Jack says giving him a critical look.

"Based on the coordinates of the planet we gated to," Siler offers.

"We didn't 'gate to a planet, we 'gated to a ship," Jack says with the slow speed you would use when talking to a small child.

"Yeah, but that ship had to have been in orbit around or on the surface of a planet in order for those 'gate coordinates to work. So, based on the location of those coordinates, even if we were traveling at ten times the speed of light, it would take at least a year to get to Earth, probably more," Siler explains.

The Goa'uld language comes over the loudspeaker and I do a quick translation for Jack, "They're being summoned to some sort of gathering."

"Okay, let's go," Jack says as if it was completely obvious where we'd be going.

"Wait a minute. Go where?" I ask.

"Wherever they're goin'." He says as if I was dense.

We slip into the corridor and follow traffic to the room with the sarcophagus in it. Jaffa and servants walk around it. The crystal ball television lights up with a translucent image of Apophis.

"Chel hol, Jaffa. The end of a dark moment in Goa'uld history approaches. Soon we will wipe out the scourge that plagues us. I will rejoin you as we come out of the shadows. Until then, you are to follow all orders of my son, as if they were my own," he says in a booming voice. The sarcophagus opens with all of its dramatic smoke, "Bow down now. Show your reverence for my son. The mighty warrior, Klorel!"

A body comes out of the sarcophagus, but it doesn't belong to Klorel. It's Skaara.

**Jack**

I can barely wait for the Jaffa to march out of the room before I rant, "He called him his son. That's sick!" I don't want to have to deal with the loss of another kid.

"The Goa'uld inside Skaara is probably the son of the one inside Apophis," Daniel points out.

"Thank you, Daniel, that's encouraging," I mutter.

"O'Neill, what is our plan of attack?" Teal'c asks.

"We're going to split up. Siler, you Ferretti and Daniel start planting C4 all over this ship," I instruct. Siler is really good with explosives. We're going to have one hell of a firestorm in the sky tonight.

"And what are you and Teal'c going to do?" Siler asks.

"We're going to try and grab Skaara." I say.

"Sir. Contingency plan," Siler says.

"C-4," I say.

Teal'c and I slink down the corridor. The room Skaara is in sounds silent from the outside. We walk in firing our zats as we duck for cover. Teal'c hits an armor-clad Jaffa in front of me with a zat blast, while I aim for the one in front of him and miss. A staff blast hits the pillar I am hiding behind. The side of the pillar I am standing behind is warm to the touch. I scoot back from it before it burns me. Another staff weapon blast hits the pillar. As soon as he's fired, I step out and fire a zat at him. I'm sort of using old military theory, because staff weapons don't exactly have a reload time. A quick check around and all of the Jaffa are on the floor. Skarra sees me and prepares his hand device to fire on me. He doesn't know that Teal'c is in the room. Teal'c leaps up behind him grabbing the hand that is pointed toward me with one of his arms and his other hand with another.

"Chel nok, makor," Skaara says in his scary Goa'uld voice.

"Rin nok," Teal'c replies holding both of his arms behind his body and pulling the hand device off his hand.

"You dare to do this to Klorel? You will die a painful death," he spouts.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," I say.

"There's a raised hieroglyphic on the wall next to the door. It resembles a coiled serpent. Push, then turn it," Teal'c instructs. The door closes, "Stand aside," he instructs. Teal'c zats the wall. I do the same thing to the other door, "They will not be able to access this room for some time," Teal'c assures me.

"Hey, Skaara. Long time, no see," I say. "C'mon, Skaara, think. Try to remember me, I'm Jack O'Neill; this is Teal'c," I plead.

"Ah, Teal'c, the traitor. I will take great pleasure in delivering his head to my father," the thing inside of Skaara sneers.

"He's not your father," I demand.

"He is my father. He seeded the queen mother. He chose the host in which I will live out eternity. Apophis gave me life."

"All right, I'm not talking to that thing in your head. I'm talking to Skaara," I say cruelly.

"Nothing of the host survives," he says making his eyes glow.

"That's bullshit. Now let him talk to me," I demand.

"Your friend had a feeble mind. It suffered greatly and gave in easily," he taunts while laughing. I slug him in the jaw. I can tell it caused him pain, but not enough. "C'mon Skaara. Look at me. Try," I say.

"Perhaps I will not kill you. Perhaps you will make a good host yourself," the thing in Skaara sneers.

I know that for a moment real fear crossed my face, and that this thing saw that fear there. I need to act now, before it uses my weakness against me.

"All right, promise me this thing won't kill him," I say to Teal'c.

"Two shots will. One shot will only cause him great pain," he says.

"So here's the deal. Let him out, let him talk to me, or you get the whole load," I tell the thing in Skaara.

"You will only hurt your friend," he sneers.

"He's a tough kid," and those words stab me. Skaara really is only a kid. Two or three years older than Cassie, perhaps. Not old enough to be engaged in a galactic battle for the soul of the universe. Not old enough to fight mind control. Not old enough to witness the acts of a Goa'uld and certainly not old enough to do them.

"Your friend is too afraid to come forward. He enjoys my protection. He really does not wish to speak with you," the thing in Skaara sneers.

"Is that right? Let him go, Teal'c. Let him go," I say more firmly when Teal'c doesn't respond. I zat Skaara and blue lightning bolts jut across his body sending him to the floor.

"Sha'uri! Daniel!" he screams in his own voice.

"Skaara. Hey there," I say taking the kid into my arms.

He looks terrified as he looks into my eyes saying, "O'Neill! Oh, it hurts," he's almost in tears.

"I know, kid. I'm sorry."

"O'Neill, are you still my friend?" he sobs.

"Yes, I am," I assure him.

"Can you forgive me for what we are about to do?"

"What are you about to do? Skaara! Skaara, what are you about to do?"

"Please forgive us," he begs and I can see that we are losing him.

"Hang in there kid, c'mon, hang on! What are you about to do?" I repeat.

Suddenly, I can tell that his body has been taken over again. The thing within him shouts, "Jaffa! Nok kree tol!"

The Jaffa burst into the room with a flash of light that could have been anything from a welding torch to a staff weapon to an energy beam. "Drop your weapon," the first one to enter the room commands.

"Release Klorel now," another commands.

"C'mon Skaara, help us," I plead to Skaara.

"Release him, or we will kill the human," a Jaffa commands.

"If you kill the human I will kill Klorel," Teal'c says quickly and with such confidence that for one gut wrenching second, I believe him. Unfortunately, the Jaffa do not.

"And the host in which he resides?" the Jaffa sneers.

Teal'c lowers the zat onto the floor. The thing that controls Skaara picks it up and zats me in the back. Damn, but that thing really does hurt.

By the time I wake up from the zat blast we are being ushered before the crystal ball that has Apophis's face on it.

"Father, I wish to present you with a great gift. The traitor, Teal'c. And, I present the human that recruited him," the thing in control of Skaara says.

"Hey Pops," I say cheekily.

"Silence! Klorel, where did they come from?" Apophis asks.

"I do not know. We found them after departure," Skaara's body says.

"How many more came with you?" Apophis demands of me.

"Thousands. We brought a whole army," I sneer.

"I assure you, Father, there could be no more," Skaara's Goa'uld voice says.

"You have made me proud, my son," I still want to spit every time Apophis calls him that.

"Do you wish that I keep them until our rejoining?" the snake in Skaara asks.

"No. Teal'c must suffer the most painful death a Jaffa can know. Removal of his prim'ta. Let his new master watch him suffer and die," Apophis demands.

"What about the human?"

"You may choose his method of death, but do it soon. It is almost time for remoc."

"Yes, Father."

"I look forward to seeing you at our destination. Lek tol.  
The crystal ball with Apophis' image on it disappears. People gather around Teal'c including some guy wearing a strange helmet. He pulls a knife that looks like two velociraptor claws out of a sheath.

"Skaara, don't let this happen. Don't let 'em do this,' I plead.

"Na-nay," Skaara says causing the priest to pause, "Take them to the peltac." The Jaffa lead us out of the room. I'm not sure if we were just granted mercy or not.

I really hope that Ferretti, Siler and Daniel find a way to make sure that this ship never reaches earth.

"You wish to go home to your planet?" the thing in Skaara's body says.

"Of course," I say.

Skaara says some things in Goa'uld (which is harder to pick up on than Arabic by the way) and one of the Jaffa puts his hand on a crystal ball. It is smaller and murkier than the one they use as a TV.

"O'Neill, prepare yourself for—"Teal'c begins. The ship slows down so suddenly that I go sailing into a wall, hitting my head.

"Extreme deceleration," Teal'c finishes.

"Thanks, Teal'c," I say sarcastically. I stand up and can't believe what I am seeing. Saturn. Saturn is outside of the window of the ship. I thought I had more time.

"Oh my God," I mutter.

"You will get to see your home one last time, before you and everyone on your planet, are destroyed. And your kind will disturb the Goa'uld no more," the thing inside of Skaara says.

There is smoke in the hallway and the hissing sound that lets me know an earth weapon is the cause. I turn to see the fiery show that is caused by automatic weapons and staff weapons firing in a small metal hallway. The ricochet in this type of situation means that you almost don't have the luxury of picking your target. Bad for a hostage situation, which is exactly what my teammates are fighting their way into. But, they were smart to draw the enemy out into the hall. Fighting in a Goa'uld mother ship is lot like fighting in a tank or submarine. It occurred to me it would be, and so I read everything I could about close quarters combat that year after the first Abydos mission.

Ferretti bursts into the room shooting down one of the Jaffa before ducking behind the sarcophagus. A Jaffa takes aim at Ferretti and I kick him in the stomach. His metal armor hurts my knee, but he doubles over. I slam him in the back of his head as hard as I can.

Siler and Daniel come in the door through the smoke. There are zat blasts everywhere. I can't follow all the action at once, but only have the vague knowledge that my team is still safe and that Teal'c is taking down more than his fair share of the enemy.

Suddenly Skaara grabs Daniel, who drops his weapon and Skaara starts using the hand device on Daniel's forehead. I grab Daniel's gun and point it at Skaara.

"Skaara!" I regrip the gun, trying to convince myself I can really do this, "Skaara, don't!" I plead.

"O'Neill, you must take action!" Teal'c exclaims.

"Skaara!" I scream before shooting Skaara in the arm. He falls to the floor and I rush over to him to see if I killed him. I know that I've said I killed my son many times, but I didn't kill him like this. I didn't actually shoot him.

"Daniel, you okay?" Ferretti asks.

Daniel is gasping for breath and he can't even answer, "O'Neill," Skaara pleads. It's a fatal shot.

"Ah, Skaara, I'm sorry," I say.

He gives me a sad smile and then dies in my arms. Charlie died in my arms too. It was hours after he'd suffered his own gunshot wound. We were in a hospital and we'd had plenty of time for goodbyes. But the death was remarkably the same.

"Colonel O'Neill," Teal'c says.

"Yeah, gimme a second, here," I say looking at Skaara.

"I cannot," Teal'c insists.

"Earth," Siler says looking out the big front window.

"I thought you said we couldn't be there for at least a year," Daniel says accusatorily.

"I guess this ship can go way faster than ten times the speed of light," Siler says.

"Colonel, we saw the death gliders. They're prepping for launch, sir," Siler says.

"Sergeant Siler?" I ask.

"Sir?" she asks.

"Were you able to put enough C4 around this ship to make a dent?" I ask.

"We placed charges where they should generate secondary explosions, so, yes, sir. Should make a hell of a dent," he responds.

"Thank you, Sergeant."

"Given enough time, I might be able to figure out…" Ferretti cautions.

"Negative. We should expect some of their reinforcements through that door any second. Stand by to detonate your charges on my order," I say.

"Yes, sir," Siler says.

"Wait!" Daniel says.

"Daniel, if we don't stop them now, we may never stop them," I say. I know that he's supposed to be the conscience of this outfit, but this time I know what the right thing is, saving earth at the expense of my team has got to be the right thing.

"Yeah, I know that," he says pausing to take some C4 out of his vest and attaching it to the control panel. "Let's just make as big a dent as possible, okay?" he asks.

"Ready and awaiting your order, sir." Siler says as he fiddles with the detonator.

"Okay. Well, I suppose now is the time for me to say something profound," I pause, but the only thing I can think of are Sam, Cassie and Serendipity's faces, "Nothing comes to mind. Let's do it."

"O'Neill, Apophis's ship approaches," Teal'c says. Shit.

"We overheard in the 'gate room, he said he would rejoin Klorel once they came out of the shadows," Daniel informs us.

"Teal'c, if we can knock out this ship, will it stop them?" I ask.

"It will not. Apophis's vessel is equipped with defense shields. He will still be able to destroy your cities from high above." Just once, I would like the answer to be yes. Just once, I would like things to be easy. I hear Jaffa banging at the doors in an attempt to get into the room.

"Tell me those C4 charges are on automatic timer," I plead with the rest of the team.

"They're on automatic timer," Siler says.

"Good. How long do we have?" I ask.

"Twenty-four hours," he says with a flinch.

"Twenty-four hours?" I say in disbelief.

"At the time, sir, I thought we were still light-years away," he says looking slightly annoyed. Sam got that I was annoyed at the situation and not her. She never got offended at something as little as that. But Sam hasn't been on my team for a long time and isn't going to be on my team again anytime soon. Siler isn't even on my team anymore. I'm going to be running without a scientist safety net before too long.

The sound of Jaffa banging on the door is getting louder, "Just a minute! Teal'c, work with me, buddy, is there any other way out of here?"

"None."

The Jaffa are starting to peel the door open, "Cover up," I command, "This is turning out to be a bad day."

As the door peels open, we shoot guns and zats furiously toward the Jaffa. They aren't making any headway into the room and I'm just beginning to think we might have a chance of getting out of here alive when a little round ball enters the room shooting out a bright light and a high pitch sound. I feel myself falling to the floor.

**Jack-later**

"O'Neill?" I hear Teal'c say. I put a hand up and feel his shoulder. I open up my eyes and sit up. I can't see anything. I rub my eyes and am horrified to discover it doesn't help. "Teal'c. Ahh! Teal'c. I can't see!" I exclaim alarmed.

"I am blinded as well. It will pass," he says with his usual calm. His calm always has a way of making me calmer.

"What the hell was that?" I ask.

"A Goa'uld shock grenade. Though extremely painful, its effects are temporary," he informs me.

"That's good to hear," I say reaching backward and running into Ferretti who sits up startled, almost swatting me.

"Colonel? Sorry, sir. It's just so dark," he mutters.

"It's all right," I assure him, "Siler you here somewhere?" I ask.

"Yes sir," he replies.

"It isn't dark. We're blind. And we failed," Daniel says in the most depressed tone I've ever heard.

"All right, take it easy, Daniel. We've been in worse situations than this," I say.

"Not to my knowledge," Teal' informs me.

"Thanks, Teal'c," I say, but it was a waste of breath; the man doesn't get sarcasm.

"Right now they're getting ready to wipe out the major cities of Earth. They'll do it from orbit, out of reach," Daniel says.

"Daniel…" I caution.

"Jack, I've already been through this once before. I've already seen this before," he says in a desperate voice.

"Daniel, will you relax? You've been through it before and you survived. We're just having a bad day," I say. I am not very good at raising morale, especially with people smarter than me. But it has to be done.

"Colonel, I think I'm starting to see something," Siler says.

"My sight returns as well," Teal'c says.

"Now, that's what I want to hear.

**Jack-later**

"Well, on the bright side, my hand isn't blurry anymore," Daniel says. He must be coming out of his funk, because he's trying to be more cheerful.

I hear footsteps coming down the corridor, "Teal'c?" I ask hoping he is going to be able to explain it.

One of those guys in the shiny metal serpent suits is silhouetted on the curtain. Teal'c and I stand one on each side of the door preparing to take this guy out, because it really does look like just one guy. The door raises and we see Bra'tac. Or at least I think it is Bra'tac, my eyes still aren't working all that well.

"Bra'tac?" I ask uncertainly. He gives me a sideways halfhearted punch, but he gets me right in the nose so it still sends me against the wall.

"Fools! Hashak! You doom yourselves. It is all I can do to keep you alive. Do you know all I have done to regain the trust of Apophis and join this campaign? Hm? Hm?"

For being our ally, this guy sure does beat me up and insult me a lot.

"Tek'ma'te, Bra'tac," Teal'c says.

Teal'c turns to him and allows a ghost of a smile to cross his face, "Hello again, old friend. Your son grows strong. One day he will be a great warrior. But you should not have come."

"I stand by my friends. I believe this world may be our only hope in one day overcoming the false gods," Teal'c says.

"Yes. As pathetic as that may seem at the moment, I agree," he practically spits.

"You do?" Daniel asks in shock.

"I may even have been able to save this world had you not interfered," Bra'tac says.

"Hey! What do you think we've been trying to do? It is our world you're talking about here," I protest, standing up from the ground.

"Enough, human! This is not the place to talk of these things. I have been ordered by Apophis himself to execute you" he pauses for a long time and I find myself really hoping I don't have to die by the hand of an ally, especially one that is over a hundred years old, "—an order I intend to disregard. Come!" he says leading us out of the cell.

"Here are your weapons. You will need them," Bra'tac says thrusting our weapons toward him.

"Erm, Bra'tac, you mentioned something about saving the world. Care to elaborate on that?" I ask as I add my gear to my clothes.

"By assaulting Klorel, you have made that impossible," he says.

"Why?" Daniel asks.

"Among the Goa'uld, a Pharaoh's power is more often challenged by their sons than by their enemies. Once we had joined battle with your world, I was prepared to lead my wing against Apophis, in Klorel's name." Bra'tac explains.

"Apophis would assume your attack was ordered by Klorel and reciprocate. A daring plan!" Teal'c explains with an approving nod.

"I had hoped to drive a stake of mistrust between them. Now I fear they will bond against their common enemy," Bra'tac says.

"What bond? Klorel's dead," I say.

"He will rise again," Bra'tac says.

Skaara isn't dead? I didn't kill Skaara?

"The Sarcophagus," Daniel says.

"Wait a minute. You put him in that thing to bring him back?" I ask in disbelief.

"I knew it would delay their attack until he arose. Perhaps when the warships of your world attack…" Bra'tac begins. Oh, I'm thinking he overestimated our power.

"Um, excuse me, did you say "the ships of our world"?" Ferretti asks.

"Surely you have such vessels?" Bra'tac says.

"Well, we have a number of, of…" Daniel begins.

"Shuttles," I finish with him.

"These shuttles—they are a formidable craft?" Bra'tac asks, sounding excited.

"Oh yeah," I say with fake confidence, "Yeah. Bad day," I mutter.

"We accelerate. Klorel has risen," Teal'c says.

"Then the campaign has begun. Once we launch, we will do what damage we can," Bra'tac says.

"How many in your wing?" I ask.

"Three," he says stoically.

"Three?!" I ask suddenly feeling nauseous. Earth is doomed.

"Teal'c makes four," Bra'tac says sharing a smile of pride.

"Oh well, four," I say forgetting again that Jaffa don't get sarcasm.

"I have trained these warriors since they were Chal'til. They have sworn their lives to me. It is no simple thing to ask," Bra'tac says. He gets sarcasm better than Teal'c and he hasn't even lived on earth.

"And we appreciate it, believe me. But what are the odds of taking out a ship like this, with four gliders and ... maybe a shuttle?" I ask.

"A Goa'uld attack vessel is heavily armed, shielded and capable of launching a legion of gliders against us. I would say slim," Teal'c says stoically.

"Okay, call me a pessimist, but I think it's time for a new plan," I say.

"We offer to lay down our lives for your world, Human. You cannot ask more," he says sounding truly offended.

"No, I can't. But I think a better idea is to get the other guys to lay down their lives for their world first, hmm? How long before the C4 goes?" I ask Siler.

"Forty-one minutes, sir," Siler says.

"Okay, with any luck at all, this ship is going to blow within the hour. It might be a good idea for us to get to the other one. Can you do that?" I ask him.

"Have you more of this 4C?" Bra'tac asks obviously impressed.

"It's called C4," I correct.

"The answer is no. We used it all to take out this ship," Siler says.

"Well you guys must have something left," Daniel asks Bra'tac.

"We shall have to cross that bridge when we come to it," Bra'tac says. Does he have to go and learn my expressions?

"You know, that particular cliché—doesn't always work," I mutter, but he's already out of earshot.

We walk down the hallways, at one point we encounter some kind of turbulence. Teal'c says something must have hit the shields. A part of me is hoping that it is someone from earth fighting back. Another part of me is hoping that it isn't. When earth tries to fight back, I want it to do more than make me feel like we're on an airplane that hit a bit of rough air. We keep walking down the corridor.

We come around a corner and see two Jaffa. A wall of zat blasts suddenly comes toward us. I duck back around the corner. I dart out and take one of them down with my zat. I then do a summersault move to the other side of the corridor before spinning back and taking the other one out. Bra'tac peeks around the corridor to ensure that it is cleared.

"Not bad. The peltac is two decks above. This way!" he says leading us off.

"Looks clear," I say looking down a corridor.

"No. There are sentries in every corridor." Bra'tac tells us.

"Siler, how many grenades?" I ask.

"Two left," he says.

"Grenades?" Bra'tac asks.

"A crude explosive device," Teal'c explains.

"No! Observe—and learn," Bra'tac commands. He walks slowly into the corridor. I hear the sound of crunching metal even though I can't see what he's doing.

"Hmmm!" Bra'tac says obviously looking for my approval.

"Not bad," I tell him.

"All right, here's what we do," I say when we have finally reached the bridge of the ship.

"I will lead. You will follow," Bra'tac informs me.

"Right," I mutter.

"You will know when it is time," Bra'tac says.

"Whoa! You're just going to walk in there alone?" Daniel asks in shock.

"I am Klorel's loyal servant," Bra'tac says.

"Bra'tac," I hear Skaara's Goa'ulded voice say.

"My Lord Klorel," Bra'tac says.

"Come. Witness the power of your god," he says gesturing toward the window.

"I cannot," Bra'tac says.

"Why do you defy me?" the thing in Skaara asks taking a few steps toward him.

"Because you are not a god. You are a parasite within a child and I despise you," Bra'tac says bravely.

"Jaffa, Kree Tal! I am your god!" Skaara bellows. I hear the sound of the hand device activate along with the words, "And you will feel my wrath!"

"I—die—free!" Bra'tac just barely manages to huff out.

"Let's go!" I nod to my team in the hall, "Daniel, watch our backs," I say. Siler hands him a MP5. Teal'c, Siler, Ferretti and I enter the room. The Jaffa are trying to use the sarcophagus as cover, but they don't get low enough to do it effectively. If you aim for their heads, you can still get them. When I dive for cover I do it completely, way under so no shot can reach me. Ferretti takes out one of the Jaffa, I another and Teal'c's gets two. Siler helps Bra'tac off the floor and Teal'c grabs Skaara, trapping his hand behind his body like he did before.

We have the situation mostly under control here, but I hear the sound of firing in the hallway as well as the call of, "Jack!" in Daniel's voice.

I run around the corner as fast as I can. Daniel is laying in a crumpled mess. I stick my gun around the corner, but whoever did this to Daniel is dead. I crouch by his side furious at myself for putting him in this place. For being responsible for yet another kid getting shot to death.

"Daniel! Oh, dammit!" I start trying to field dress the wound, but the only nice things about staff blasts is that they instantly cauterize the wound. The not so nice thing about them is the smell. God I hate the smell of burnt flesh. Since field dressing doesn't seem necessary I try to pull him up.

"I'll be dead anyway. Just get out of here!" he screams at me.

"I am not leaving you here, Daniel," I tell him. I do not leave men behind.

"Get out of here! You're just going to blow up with the other ship anyway. What difference does it make? Go!" he says stopping to pant," Just go! I'll stay—and watch your back," the last part is soft.

I put my hand on his cheek softly, then get up and leave. "He's—staying behind," I say. The rest of my team looks at me, really confused.

"Come," Bra'tac says as the transport rings descend around us. Those things are really disorienting, even when you expect what is going to happen. One second you are in an empty room with no threats to your safety and the next second you are in a room full of Jaffa. The fact that we have Skaara as hostage is the only reason we are still alive right now. Teal'c is used to the rings and he tightened his grip on Skaara's neck as we came out of them. Teal'c and I hustle Skaara to the far end of the room.

"Come, come, come!" Bra'tac commands.

"If you fire upon us, I will kill Klorel!" Teal'c warns. Teal'c is always stating the obvious and I love him for it.

"Bra'tac, how dare you betray me?" Apophis nears.

"I have spent 133 years worshipping false gods—no more!" he says dramatically as he fires his weapon upon the part of the ship that controls it. Once we are all out of the room, Teal'c pushes Skaara into the room as the doors close. He zats the door closed as best as he can.

"Colonel, the C4 on the other ship goes in six minutes," Siler says.

"How do we blow this ship?" I as Bra'tac.

"When we were on Klorel's vessel, I directed it closer to this one," Bra'tac informs me.

"If we disable the shield generator of this vessel, both will be destroyed in the explosion. Two birds with but one stone," Teal'c says.

"This way," Bra'tac says taking point.

He leads us to an impressive room. The thing must be six or seven stories high. It's got metal and lights and all kinds of complexities that would keep Sam busy for months if she could get her hands on it to study it.

"The shield generators are far below. There, in the very bowels of the ship. We must climb down several decks, through the length of the ship. Then, taking our weapons, we must…" Bra'tac begins.

Six minutes, we don't have time for that. I dig into my vest for two grenades, pull out the pins and toss them down the hole. They cause a fireball to get a third of the way up the cavity.

"Grenades," I inform him and he looks suitably impressed.

"This vessel is no longer protected by an energy field," Teal'c says with relief.

"So that's it?" Ferretti asks.

"That is it," says Teal'c.

"I think what the Major is asking is, "What now?"" I clarify. This human/alien communication thing needs some work. It's usually Daniel's job to facilitate such things. But Daniel…isn't here right now.

"Now we die," Bra'tac says with that strange pride in death he's been showing all day.

"Well, that's a bad plan. Where are the glider bays from here?" I say squinting at him.

We get to the glider bay, "Siler, you and I will go in first. We'll take up positions to…"

Bra'tac raises his hand in what I've already figured out is the Jaffa equivalent of 'shut the hell up,"

"Never mind," I say.

"Observe!" Bra'tac proclaims as he slides one of those slivery balls into the glider bay, "Cover!" he shouts to us. Those things are a lot more fun from this side of the door. All the Jaffa are hitting the deck, "Now, that was a grenade! Come." He says. Bra'tac gestures me into the same glider as him, while Teal'c helps Siler into a second and another one of Bra'tac's Jaffa gets he and Ferretti into a third one. The last Jaffa takes a fourth death glider.

"Human, put this on," Bra'tac instructs me, throwing me an earpiece.

"Will you please stop calling me "Human"?" I protest.

"Our time is up. We have got to go," I tell the drivers of the ship.

"Punch it," Siler says. The ships shoot out into space. Inertial dampeners are pretty cool. I know our ships are moving fast, but I don't feel like the ships are moving fast. I can see that our wings are on fire, as well as the other gliders. But it doesn't last long. That's the nice thing about space, it's a vacuum. Fire needs oxygen. Without it, it doesn't burn long. It does leave holes in our wings. I studied aerodynamics of course, but on earth where gravity and wind were huge factors. I'm not sure what will be the effect of holes on the wings of the death gliders in space. The effect seems to be minimal (although goodness only knows what would happen if we tried to land these things, we don't have enough fuel to try that anyway so it really doesn't matter).

"Bra'tac? Bra'tac? You okay?" I ask. The man is rubbing his head and I'm a little worried that the pilot is done for. That would be really bad, not only because Bra'tac is one of the best warriors I've ever seen, but also because I'm pretty sure I couldn't actually manage piloting this thing.

"Not bad, for an old man," he says with pride.

"Colonel? Come in," Ferretti's voice says.

"We're okay, Major," I assure him.

"Same here, sir. But I don't think we bought ourselves much time. Our glider's had it," Siler says.

"I concur," Teal'c says stoically.

"Sergeant, take a look up," I say.

"It's beautiful," he says in awe, catching an eyeful of the planet earth. A very close eyeful of the planet earth.

"Yes it is,' I agree.

"We saved it, sir," Ferretti says.

"Yes, we did," I say, but as I say it I'm really only thinking about three earthlings. Three earthlings that I saved today. They are worth dying for.

"It's going to be a beautiful sunset, sir," Ferretti says.

"You know, Major—this wasn't such a bad day after all," I say.

"Not bad at all," he repeats.

"We die well, Teal'c," Bra'tac says.

"More than that, old friend—we die free!" Teal'c says and I don't even mind the dramatic death talk this time.

Suddenly I catch sight of a shuttle, "Or not …"

I hear someone from the shuttle say, "Er Houston, this is _Endeavour_. We have them in sight. I repeat, we have them in sight."

**Sam**

I watch as Teal'c, Siler, Ferretti and Bra'tac come into view. I catch sight of Jack and my heart gives a jump of relief. I heard that they were ok, but hearing really isn't the same as seeing. The room breaks into applause as the heroes walk into it.

"Master Bra'tac. Words cannot express our gratitude," Hammond says to him.

"You are Hammond of Texas?" Bra'tac asks touching his head.

"I am," Hammond says with a nod.

"Your warriors serve you well," Bra'tac says.

"I know they will be sorry to see you return home so soon," Hammond replies.

"I must return before word of our rebellion reaches Chulak. My place is there." Bra'tac gives a nod to Siler and Ferretti,, and grabs Jack by the shoulders before he turns to Teal'c and touches his face tenderly.

An airman in dress blues says, "This way, sir. We want to ask you a few questions before you leave." Bra'tac walks out of the room with him.

"Not bad at all," I hear Jack mutter to no one in particular.

"SG-1—there's someone who'd like to see you," Hammond says grandly. Daniel pushes his way through the crowd. I hear Siler and Ferretti both exclaim his name, but I'm mostly watching for Jack's reaction. I know that Jack thought he was dead, even though he's been back safely longer than Jack has.

Jack breaks into a wide grin and pulls him into a tight hug. He gives him a good hug. The kind of hug he usually reserves for me or Cassie. Not the kind he usually offers to male friends. He pulls away, "Spacemonkey!" he says giving him a light slap on the cheek, "Yeah!" Daniel goes on to hug the other members of SG-1.

Jack sees me and his eyes light up. He mouths 'ccome 'ere.' I go over to him and he pulls me into a tight hug. His head is in the crook of my neck.

"Jack, we're in the gateroom," I remind him.

"Carter, I am beyond caring right now," he whispers back. I try to pull away, "Jack," I protest.

"Carter, I just gave Daniel a hug, I think I can hug my…Carter."

I laugh, we still haven't given a name to our relationship and now we're kind of past that.

But Jack isn't laughing. I pull away and get a look at his face, "Are you ok, Jack? Did you get hurt?"

He shakes his head and pulls me back into another hug, "I thought I was going to die," he whispers, "I didn't think I'd ever see you again."

"It's ok," I say.

"I didn't want to lose you, our girls, my family, not even to save earth. I shouldn't feel like that, but…I didn't want to lose you for anything."

That is a long way from depression.

"I'm right here, Jack," I say.

"I want to go home," he says.

"You want me to ask Hammond?" I ask.

"No," he shakes his head, "We'll wait until the ceremony is over. I can wait."

**Cassie**

"Daddy!" I scream, running out of the house

"Hey," he says picking me up and holding me in a tight hug. He holds me tight for a really long time. Longer than I thought he would. Something is wrong.

"Are you ok?" I ask.

He nods, but he still hasn't put me down.

"Jack, you should get off your leg," Mom says.

Today was his first time going through the Stargate since his leg got better. He was gone for a long time.

"Hey, Janet," Jack says coming through the door, "how is the baby?"

"Fine, sleeping, how are you?" she asks.

"Good, glad to be home. Glad there is a home," he says.

She nods like she knows what he means, but I don't feel like I do. I have the strange feeling something really bad almost happened tonight.

Note: I am not confused about who is Skaara and who is Klorel (and I do know the Goa'uld's name) but Jack sorta is.


	22. In the Line of Duty

A general note unrelated to this chapter but addressed to all my fans who think I'm mean to Daniel. Daniel Jackson is awesome, amazing, fantastic, my favorite stargate character and the second person I would create if I had a magical machine that made fictional characters real.

He's not good around kids. I'm sorry. You can take me out back and shoot me now, but he's not. He's just not. Look at the series. I mean he never gets involved in Cassie's life, even after he promised to. And the whole Shifu thing was an epic fail. He allowed the child to get kidnapped and later killed, because that's what ascension is folks. Death.

He's not father of the year material, probably because he grew up mostly without parents. But the reason why he's not awesome Uncle Danny in this story is because Daniel isn't capable of that, at least not until his character changes in a dramatic way.

Yes, I know I've written fics where Daniel is a good dad. That's because when I write I am in charge of my own story can make my characters dance as I please In this one I'm trying to keep them in character, have them react to a different situation as I believe the characters on the show would.

Please send me angry reviews because I insulted the holy Daniel who can do no harm. I love debates.

_Italics are for Carter._

**Bold is for Jolinar.**

**Sam**

This was supposed to be a peaceful mission. And the Goa'uld death gliders are zooming overhead. We're being fired upon and it doesn't make any sense. There is no reason for these innocent people to be suffering.

"Let's go, Captain. Those gliders are coming back around!" Ferretti yells at me as he runs by with a small child in his arms.

"This man's alive!" I tell him.

"Now!" he practically screams.

I am doing CPR on the man, desperately trying to save his life. I listen at his mouth. I lower his head, listening again. He needs another breath. When I lower my mouth on to his he cups his hand behind my head. For a second I think he's trying to kiss me and I try to pull away. Then I feel something on the back of my throat and I know right away that it is not a tongue. It moves like a worm, with a mind of its own. It's a Goa'uld symbiote, in my mouth.

I pull away horrified, but I am too late. I feel a sharp pain in the back of my throat. It's in me. I'm finished. This isn't what I thought it would feel like.

_I can still think._

**Of course you can, you think we are all powerful?**

_ I can't move my arms or legs. I'm paralyzed!_

**Oh hush, you're not paralyzed.** And I stand up.** It just takes me a few seconds before I have complete control.**

** "**Carter! We've got to go!" Ferretti says. _I feel my body turning toward him. The Goa'uld that has taken me over must not be able to move like me, because he doesn't think she is me._

**I am not a Goa'uld.**

_You sure act like it and feel like it._

"You alright?" Ferretti asks.

**"Yeah."**

"Let's get him outta here, come on," Ferretti says trying to pick him up the dead former host.

**"Dead! Had some kind of seizure. Bit his own tongue."**

_ I thought you things liked to say that nothing of the host remains. I'm still here._

**I'm not Goa'uld. I know the host survives. I'm Tok'ra.**

_A Goa'uld by any other name is still a parasite._

**Symbiote.**

_We come through the gate room. Medics are everywhere. There are a lot of injured people._

_ Jack looks down from the control room. He speaks down from the intercom, "Carter? You okay?"_

**"Yeah, fine. Thanks."**

_What do you want from me?_

**You? I want nothing more than survival from you.**

_Then let me go free._

**Of course, as soon as we get through the Stargate.**

_That sounds like a little bit more than survival to me._

**If I leave a host without another host I will die. Now hush. I've got to figure this out.**

_Noise disturbs you? I can make a lot of noise. I can sing every song I know at the top of my lungs. Wait. Not yet. I hear Daniel talking. What is Daniel saying?_

_ "_There hadn't been any Goa'uld interference on this planet for over three centuries. The Nasyans are a…were a peaceful people. They were eager to form an alliance and aid us in setting up a research outpost. There was no warning this attack was coming. We hadn't even spotted the mothership by the time the Gliders assaulted the village."

"It's not normal for the Goa'ulds to suddenly just show up and wipe out peaceful people for no apparent reason, is it?" Hammond asks.

"In the past there was usually some reason, most often they seemed to attack civilizations that were advancing to a point where their technology could be a threat, but that wasn't the case here," Daniel says.

"I have seen the Goa'uld wipe out entire civilizations—no reason, simply because it gave them pleasure," Teal'c says.

"So what, Nasya was just next on the list? Part of me wishes it was that simple, but I don't want to underestimate them." Daniel insists.

"**Maybe their reasons just weren't made apparent to you, Teal'c. I mean, you are just a Jaffa.**" _The creature says in a voice that is not quite my own. Everyone is staring at her. They are noticing that she is not me. The beast tries to backtrack, to make everything she said sound normal,_ **"All…all I meant was that Apophis wouldn't necessarily have explained everything to Teal'c even if he was First Prime. Would he?"**

** "**That is true," Teal'c says.

"I agree with Sam. I think we have to assume the Goa'uld are more complex as a society than we're giving them credit for," Daniel says._ No Daniel, don't agree with her. She is not right._

_**"**_**The better you understand the enemy the better prepared you are in conflict."**

"Exactly," Daniel says.

"What's the status of the Nasyan survivors?" Hammond asks.

"Well, we managed to recue 237 people. The critically burned and some of the overflow our infirmary couldn't handle were transferred to the Air Force Academy hospital. The rest are awaiting relocation," Daniel says, "Sir, I think it's important to try and find the reason why Nasya became a Goa'uld target."

"Agreed. But relocation is the first priority. I'm assigning the three new SG teams 10 through 12 to coordinate with you. Dismissed," Hammond says.

Ferretti pauses, "Oh, Carter, I hate to be a nag about this but Fraiser says you haven't been checked out yet?"

_Good, someone noticed. Oh, they've figured it out, now I am going to be saved._

**"I'll go right now. Wouldn't want to break post-mission protocol, right, Major?"**_ Overly cheerful voice. And I would never slug his shoulder like that. Why can't I stop myself from thinking these things? You're just going to learn to be better at pretending to be me._

_ I still feel what my body feels. I feel fingers on my neck. Janet's finger. You're never going to pass the post-mission physical. They are designed specifically to stop Goa'uld like you._

"Sorry to have to do this," Janet says. _Oh please don't apologize. Stick all the tongue depressors you want down my throat, do whatever you have to in order to discover that this is not me you're talking to._

"All right, open." _The thing in control of my body does and Janet shines a flashlight down its, my. Which is most correct? Throat._

"You had a sore throat lately?"

_Only since this creature invaded me._

**"A little, why?"**

"There's a small abrasion back there. I have to do a swab. And open."

_Ah, choked on it did you? Good. I wish it was worse for you._

"You going to pick Cassandra and Serendipity up from day care tonight or is Jack?"

**Who are Cassandra and Serendipity?**

_ You're crazy if you think I am going to tell you that._

**"Yeah, I'm going to pick them up."**

"Okay! You just let me know if it gets worse."

_No, Janet, no! You can't let me go; there is a Goa'uld inside of me. You can't let her free. You can't let her go wandering around in my body. Do you realize who she could hurt?_

**I'm guessing Cassandra and Serendipity are at the top of that list. It will just take a little probing of your mind to figure out where this 'day care' is.**

_YOU STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM THEM!_

_**"**_**I'm free to go out tomorrow, though, right? We're searching for possible relocation sites for the Nasyans."**

"I don't see why not," Janet says.

Time is different when you have a Goa'uld inside of you. I think she has a way of putting me into a trance or a sleep of some kind, because I know some time has passed before I hear my own voice say, **"This is the place called 'daycare' is it not?"**

_No, no, don't let her have them. Don't let her at my babies. Major James gives me a strange look. _

_ "_Colonel O'Neill already picked them up. You told me he was going to when you dropped them off this morning.

**"Right, I just forgot."**

_No, please, I'll convince them to let them go through the gate._

**I've probed enough of your mind to know that will not work.**

_Ok, but as long as you don't make them suspicious they will let you to through the gate tomorrow. As long as you don't do anything different than what I would do. If you go home you are guaranteed to do something different than I would do. You can't pretend to be me for that long. Just go to my base quarters for the night. You'll never be able to fool my family._

**I'm not stupid. You don't live for thousands of years by being stupid. You don't want me to go through the gate. If I stayed on base they would know something is wrong. Your mate would know something was wrong.**

_Somehow the word 'mate' sort of works for what Jack and I are. But he's going to know that you aren't me. He is already suspicious. And you're right, I don't want you to go through the gate, but I don't want you to be near my family a whole lot more. Given the choice between the two, I'd rather you stayed on base and left tomorrow. I'd rather spend my life imprisoned by you than to have a Goa'uld near my kids. Call, Jack, tell him you're staying on base. That's your best chance of getting off this planet._

** I have a mate too Samantha. His name is Lantash, once he told me, 'Never believe a word spoken by an unwilling host.' I've probed your mind. We need to go to your house.**

**Jack**

"Hey, Sam, you're a little late," I say giving her a quick peck. The kiss felt really weird. She has a weird expression on her face and I'm trying to figure out what it means.

"Sorry, I got caught up at work," she says.

"No problem, I made tacos. We've already eaten, but I left some on the stove for you to heat up.

"Hey mom!" Cassie says running to her. She was painting and she still has paint all over her hands. She realizes this before I have to remind her and she turns to the kitchen sink to run water over them and wipes them off on a towel.

"Wow, nice painting," Sam says.

"You really like it? My teacher at school says I have talent," Cassie says.

"I told you that Mrs. Struble was a bright woman," I say.

"I love it," Sam says with sincerity bending down to hug Cassie.

"I love you," Cassie says.

"I know sweetheart, I love you too," Sam says. Suddenly Cassie jumps back in horror.

"Cassandra, what is it?" I ask. She runs behind the couch. Sam's eyes glow and she makes a break for the door. I tackle her from behind.

"Cassie honey, you have to call the SGC," I say. Holding down Sam is not an easy task. I think it's even harder because of the Goa'uld, but I wouldn't really know, because I've never tried to restrain Sam before. This could just be the training. But, she's stronger than she looks and I don't know if I'm going to be able to hold her long enough. I also don't know if she's going to hurt the girls if she gets free.

God I hope not, because if Sam is still in there and has to watch her own hands hurt the kids…that would be just about worse thing I could imagine.

Cassie is curled up in the corner, "Cassie honey, I need you to call the SGC right now! Mommy needs your help."

"That's not Mommy, that's a Goa'uld," she sobs.

"I know sweetie, you have to call the SGC, so they can get help. That way Mommy won't hurt anyone and we can keep her safe until we find a way to get the Goa'uld out of her. But you have to call now, ok, please, honey?"

She nods her head and walks into the kitchen. I hear enough of her conversation that I figure she's talking directly to Hammond and that he's got people on the way.

"Ok, sweetie," it's going to be ok. I need you to go into your sister's room and lock the door from the inside. You know how to do that?" I ask.

"Mommy told me never too…" she begins.

"This is an exception, ok, sweetie. You go in there and you don't open up until Hammond or I tell you to, ok?" I hope the slimy snake doesn't go into me and trick her into opening up, but I don't know what else to tell her. It's not like a secret password could keep her safe when the alien has access to mind probing.

As soon as Cassie is out of sight I say, "Sorry Sam," and give Sam a knock to the head. It's something I learned in Special Forces, almost guaranteed to make someone unconscious with very little chance of causing permanent damage. She's out. Much easier to hold down now.

**Sam**

_Thank God. I'm waking up in a cell. I've never felt such terror as when that thing was hugging Cassie. Struggling with Jack. I guess now the question of who would win in a fight between Jack and I is finally answered and I'm so glad it wasn't me._

**I wasn't going to hurt them.**

_Of course not, Goa'uld never hurt anyone._

**I'm not Goa'uld.**

_You need an anatomy lesson. Hey stop it! I feel you digging around in my brain.. What exactly are you looking for?_

**Hitler.**

_What?_

**He is a member of the same species as you, is he not?**

_Yes, he's a human._

**But you're not Hitler, or Nazi? Nazi is the type of human that Hitler was.**

_Well, yes, Nazi is Hitler's political party. I wouldn't exactly call it a 'type of human', but…_

**So I'm not Goa'uld. We share a species. We have the same anatomy as you pointed out, but I am no more like the Goa'uld than you are like Hitler.**

_You're telling me that this Tok'ra you keep mentioning is a political party inside of the Goa'uld?_

**Something like that, if I'm understanding what you mean by political party, but even more than that. We have a different way of life.**

_You still use human bodies._

**We do not take unwilling hosts.**

_The hell you don't, I don't remember signing up for this._

**There are exceptions for emergency situations.**

**Jack**

"I didn't know. I wasn't sure until I saw her lose it down there. Cassie was the one who suspected," I say with exasperation while passing back and forth across the floor of the briefing room.

"Cassandra still has traces of naquadah in her blood. I think there may be some connection—a reaction that made her sense the Goa'uld," Fraiser explains.

"How in the world did it get into Captain Carter?" Hammond says sounding angry.

"Sir, I don't know what to say. I examined Captain Carter myself. There were no visible signs of entry," Fraiser says pounding the table with every word, "I mean, she had a small abrasion on the back of her throat, but it could have been anything."

"Are you saying it entered through her mouth?" Hammond says in shock.

"The parasite's goal is to attach itself to the brain stem. The soft tissue at the back of the throat is as good a place as any to start," Fraiser says.

Ferretti says, "Oh, wait a minute, wait a minute. Oh my God, she was giving some guy on that planet mouth-to-mouth. There was blood but she said the guy just bit his tongue before he died."

"If a Goa'uld can infest a human with no detectable physical signs, then we're going to have to start giving all personnel who go through the Gate an ultrasound or an MRI," Fraiser says in shock.

"For now, let's make sure we haven't let any more Goa'ulds through the Gate this time," Hammond says.

"What would a Goa'uld be doing in a Nasyan man in the first place? I mean, we certainly didn't notice any of them acting…Goa'uld-ish," Ferretti says.

"Maybe it was a setup, trying to get a spy into one of us," I say.

"It is possible the Goa'uld within Captain Carter has already placed a device of destruction on this base," Teal'c says.

"If there's any tampering here, I want it found. Teal'c, I'd like you to help. You know better than anyone what to look for," Hammond says looking right into Teal'c's eyes.

"Oh, what are we going to do about Sam?" Daniel asks.

"We're gonna get that damned thing out of her is what we're gonna do!" I shout. They are all looking at me in a way that plainly says they think I'm too close to be making a rational decision.

"Well, that didn't really work with Kowalski. And if any of those NID guys like Colonel Maybourne find out about this, then…" Daniel says. That makes my stomach sick to think about the NID getting a hold of Carter.

"Well, they're not going to! Right, General?" I ask looking at him.

"Agreed. I'm not giving up on Captain Carter, either. But until someone presents me with a viable option, I'm putting you in charge of interrogating the prisoner." He says.

Oh, they can't possibility be serious, "Due respect, Sir, I don't think that thing in her head's going to tell me anything."

"Colonel, we need to know what that Goa'uld's doing here." He says.

"Yes, sir," I mutter after he's left.

An hour later and I'm sitting on a bench in the locker room. This is the very place where my relationship with Sam changed forever. And now it's changed again.

She might never come back to me.

I could very well be raising our daughters alone.

Our daughters might lose a mother and I might lose a…whatever Sam is to me. So much more than girlfriend and not quite wife.

And I'm supposed to go and talk to the thing in her body.

"Colonel O'Neill," Teal'c says opening the door.

"Thought you were helping with the sweep of the base," I mutter.

"I am on my way," he say. But he sits down next to me.

"This is difficult," he says. Always stating the obvious. He looks at me seeing through me. For a man who doesn't display much in the way of human emotions he certainly recognizes them well enough.

"Yeah. Yeah, it is," I say glancing at him.

"Assault the Goa'uld's ego. Make him appear foolish. He may then reveal the things you wish to learn simply to make himself appear more powerful," Teal'c says.

"Ah, come on, Teal'c. They're smarter than that," I mutter.

"I have seen many Goa'uld strategies revealed and certain victories lost because of Goa'uld arrogance. It is the Goa'uld's greatest weakness," he says knowingly.

I look at him and consider his words before I mutter, "Yeah," I say as I heave myself up and walk to the door.

"Colonel O'Neill. When you speak to her, do not see your mate."

I'm about to correct him, but I don't have anything to put in the place of that word. It's as good as any, "How do you do that?" I say walking away, because I know that he doesn't have an answer to give me.

**Sam**

_Jack? Why is Jack here? At least she can't physically hurt him since I am behind bars. But there are a lot of ways to cause pain. What was Hammond thinking sending him in here? Almost anyone would have been better. This isn't fair to him. Someone else should have done it. Jack, please go home. Stay safe._

_ Don't leave me. I miss you. I'm scared._

"So, you and I have got to have a little talk. You really screwed up here, you know. I mean, you really blew it."_He says standing across the room from me and talking with his hands._

**"You are weak."**

"Who's behind bars right now?"

"**You tactics will not work on me."**

"Not buying it, huh?" he says carelessly walking across the room to stand in front of the bars.

"**You must let me go."**

_Jack, help me._

**He'd be helping you by letting me go.**

_I don't think so._

"Ah…no."

"**You really have no idea why this is happening."**

"And I guess you don't feel like telling me." The creature within me sits down on the bed with her arms crossed. She and Jack have a really long staring contest before she uncrosses her legs and walks to the door.

"**Let me go. Let me go through the Stargate. I will find another host and send your friend back to you."**

_Jack moves close to me, I see hope in his eyes. I know she can see it too._

"You can do that? Leave a host without killing them?"

"**Yes. It is possible, but not easy. I could die, but I promise I will try."**_ So you can lie to me inside of my head? It doesn't sound like a lie. I almost believe you._

"The Nasyan man died when you left him."

_God the pain. Grief? You loved him? His death hurt you. Hurt you bad. You miss him. _

"**The Nasyan man died first, that is why I left him. He was beyond my natural abilities to heal."**

"What were you doing in him in the first place?"

"**Carter's mind would be intact. She would return to you as you knew her before."**

_Kind of avoiding the question there aren't we?_

"You know I can't trust you."

_I know that, but I almost feel as if I could trust her. If it wasn't completely crazy to think that._

"**I could have killed you and your daughters when I first arrived at your place of residence..."**

"You didn't want to die yourself."

"**You would not have killed me. I am too valuable."**

_He pauses with love on his eyes, "_Which is exactly why we'll never let you go."

**You love this man? He is your mate?**

_Leave him alone._

**The father of your children as well. I can use this.**

_No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. Good, he's leaving, he'll be safe._

"**I have done nothing to harm you. But you would not let me go even if you did believe me. Oh God, he's telling you the truth! Please, Jack!"**

_Quit speaking with my voice! You don't have a right to use my voice. _

"**No, Jack! Please, don't leave me, please! Give me a chance! Don't leave me like this! Please!"**

_He's gone. I'm glad that he left me, but I also…want Jack to come back._

**Teal'c**

I enter the cell of the Goa'uld that has taken over Major Carter's body, "You have requested my presence?"

"**Jaffa, you must convince the humans to let me go,"** the beast says.

"They will not let you go."

"**They are impressive. The Tau'ri have become very powerful in the time since the Goa'uld reign here. Certainly the System Lords will not allow this to go unchecked. I can provide the humans with information that can help them defend against attack."**

I take a step forward challenging her, "They are more powerful than you know. Already, a Goa'uld attack on Earth has been thwarted."

"**Then a more powerful assault is already being planned,"** she says with all the cockiness of a Goa'uld.

"They are not fools. They believe you are here to plant a seed of that destruction," I accuse.

She uncrosses her arms and steps forward and looks conspiratorially at me, **"Not all Goa'uld are the same. There are a few that oppose the System Lords and their ways. You must have heard of the Tok'ra."**

The Tok'ra are nothing more than a myth, but they are a myth that was supposed to save us all. I step forward to look her in the eye, "Every Goa'uld seeks power for his own reason and would betray his own brother to achieve it," I speak the truth that it took me decades to learn plainly.

"**Some seek power for a greater purpose. Not every Goa'uld is an enemy to the people of this planet. The Tok'ra are real, no matter what Apophis has told you."**

"I have yet to meet one."

"**You have now. I am Jolinar of Malkshur."** Could it be true? I leave the room, this claim warrants further investigation.

**Jack**

Teal'c came back from talking to that snake that took over Sam all excited. Or at least as excited as Jaffa ever get. I'm not quite sure what has him doing jumping jacks, but I'm going down there to talk to the thing again. I don't want to have to see that thing again. It breaks my heart. Is Sam still in there somewhere?

"There is an old legend among the Jaffa that they speak of concerning a group of Goa'uld who opposed the ways of the System Lords. This group is called the Tok'ra. This Goa'uld, Jolinar of Malkshur, claims to be part of that group," Teal'c says as we open the door to the cell where they are keeping Sam.

"Can you be sure she is who she says she is?" I ask.

"I cannot," Teal'c informs us.

**"Unfortunately, we do not carry identification,"** the snake says. She's got Sam's body leaning up against a wall in a way that proves by body language alone that Sam isn't in control of the body. I wonder if I should have seen it sooner. Did I miss the signs?

"Okay, let's try to build a little trust here, shall we? One of the Nasyans we brought back was very badly burned. But somehow he just got up out of his hospital bed and disappeared. Who is he?" I ask. She looks worried, not a good sign. Or is it?

"It must be the Ashrak," she says. I glance at Teal'c. Usually Daniel is the one I turn to for this type of thing, but when it's Goa'uld I'm looking for, either will do.

"It means hunter," he says.

"A Goa'uld?" I ask.

**"Yes. An assassin of the highest rank who carries out the orders of the System Lords," **she says.

"Who's he here to kill?" I ask.

**"Me."**

No, we don't need another problem. We've got enough problems without having someone hunting Sam.

**Sam**

**It is him.**

Who?

**The Ashrak.**

_I thought you said you never saw him._

**I didn't, but I can sense that that is him.**

He splits the door open with no effort. "Kree shak, Jolinar. By decree of the Goa'uld System Lords you will die with dishonor by the power of the Hara'kash," the man says, the device in his hand lights up.

**"Hear this. The days of the Goa'uld System Lords are numbered. Tell them that I died with hope. My death only feeds the fire that burns strong in the Tok'ra**_." Jolinar says defiantly. Suddenly incredible pain fills my head. I've felt a lot of different kinds of pain, but this is worse than all of them. I can tell it is even worse for Jolinar, I can feel her writhing within me. Finally consciousness leaves me. _

**Jack**

That Goa'uld that is after Sam found its way onto the base. I thought she was safe here, I really thought she was safe here. Maybe this is all my fault. Maybe I should have trusted the Goa'uld. Maybe if we'd just let her go through the gate she really would have sent Sam back to us safe and sound. Will there ever be a time when I don't hurt every single person that I love? Teal'c and I are running down the hall as fast as we can go.

An Airman runs past us saying, "Colonel, the prisoner and two guards, dead."

Dead? No, she can't be dead. I open up the door to the room which holds her cell. I nearly trip over two guards. I pause to check on them, but I must get to Sam. Teal'c takes a longer look at them and says,

"These two are dead."

I cradle Sam's head in my hand checking for a pulse at the same time, "Sam, Sam! Sam. Teal'c, get a medical team down here right away. Come on, Sam." She's alive still. For now. Charlie took hours to die. You could tell he was going to. With someone whose going to make it the doctors just act different. Around Charlie they were calm, even when buzzers were going off. But there were still hours and hours before he died. I kept hoping the whole time. I can't lose another person.

Doc Fraiser comes in taking charge of the situation, yelling medical things and giving directions. It feels comforting for her to be in control. I want someone to be in control. Someone to have the power to save her. I help roll the gurney down the hall while Fraiser sits on top of Sam and performs CPR. Maybe I should have done CPR while we were waiting for the medical team to arrive. It was only a few minutes, but for all I know those minutes could be the difference between life and death for Sam. If she dies now it might be my fault.

All I can do now is get out of the way. I touch my face and cross my arms. I keep moving, trying to feel less useless, but it is to no avail.

I hear something about getting two read-outs. One of them is from the parasite and one of them is from Sam.

"Doc?" I ask uncertainly.

"I don't know, I've never dealt with this type of situation before. The Goa'uld looks like it's dying and taking Carter with it," she says. I look at Carter, her lips are turning white.

There is an emergency in the gate room and Teal'c leaves to deal with it.

"The parasite is dead," Fraiser says looking confused. She looks at me. I don't know what the hell she's looking for. Maybe she's expecting me to lose it. Maybe she wants me to beg for Sam's life. I'm doing plenty of that, but it's all staying inside of my brain. She turns back to her assistant, "Try another milligram of epi, then prepare for de-fib."

"She's out of de-fib!" someone says.

"She's got a pulse!" Janet says sounding completely confused. She pulls out a stethoscope and listens.

They keep working on her and pretty soon she shakes her head a little and opens her eyes just barely, like you do when the infirmary light is too bright.

"You did it Sam…You won." I tell her.

She shakes her head looking confused, "It wasn't me," she whispers.

"Oh, yes it was. You hung in there, you beat it," I say encouraging.

"The Goa'uld gave its life for me. It saved me," and she looks like she's sad that she lost this thing.

**Daniel**

I brought Sam flowers. I'm not entirely sure if it's appropriate given the circumstances. But it's not supposed to be a romantic gesture. I think both Sam and Jack are going to get that it's not supposed to be a romantic gesture.

Sam has her back turned to me, she pretty much has not been responding to anything anyone has said or done for a couple of days. Like that family didn't have enough problems with depression before we threw this into the mix.

I go over and sit down on the edge of her bed, "Hey Sam, how's it going tonight?" I ask.

She doesn't so much as blink in answer. I try to get a response out of her for a few more minutes. I go back into the hallway were Janet is standing with Jack and the girls.

"She's still the same," I tell them.

"Janet said that the Goa'uld left after it died," Cassie asks tentatively.

"Well, that's right. Um," I say bending down on one knee so I can be at eye level with Cassie she sits perched on Jack's knee, "it died and her body's absorbing it. She's the same old Samantha Carter. Same person we've always known."

"Cassie, she's just a little sad right now. But I'll bet she cheers up when she sees you," Jack should know what he's talking about, he's seen his share of sadness. "Come on," he says. The four of us walk into Sam's infirmary room together. Cassie walks up to the bed. She looks back at us uncertainly when Sam doesn't turn toward her. Jack gives her a little climbs up on the bed and gently touches Sam's shoulder, "Mom, it's me."

Sam turns toward her, "You're going to be okay," Cassie says with a little smile. Cassie smiles in relief.

Note: Done with the angst for a while. Going to do a happy little trip through the holidays that will hopefully make you guys happy. Or mad. Or both.


	23. Halloween

**Jack**

"So, what are you going to be for Halloween?" I ask Cassie.

"An alien," she grins.

"I'm not sure you understand the concept of Halloween. You're supposed to be something you're not," I say.

"Hey, now from my perceptive you're the alien," she says with a grin.

"You're on our planet now darlin'" I say, "and seriously you dressing up as an alien is cutting a little close to the bone. Touching on classified even."

"Sam said I could," she says pouting.

Sam walks into the living room just then.

"You approved the alien theme for Halloween?" I said with raised brow.

"Oh yes, she's getting really creative with it. She's sewing tentacles, and she's fashioned antenna out of tin foil," Sam says.

"Jack, do you know about tin foil?" Cassie interrupts, "It's paper made out of metal!"

I can't help but chuckle, most of her 'wow earth!' moments are gone now, and I sort of miss them.

She pouts at the little laughing I did, "Well, I think it's pretty amazing."

"I do to, Cassandra, and I'm excited to see what kind of costume an engineer and an artist can come up with when they put their heads, together," I say.

"Astrophysicist," Sam corrects.

"You think I'm an artist?" Cassie asks looking all puffed up.

"I know it baby girl," I tell her, and the grin grows wider.

**Sam**

"No," he repeats. Jack is never the one that says no to the kids. But there he stands with his arms crossed in the bathroom door, "You are not painting our child."

"I'm helping," Cassie offers smearing green onto her arm.

"Stop, stop, stop," he says taking the tube of pain away from her.

"Jack, seriously, it's fine. Look," I say pointing to the tube, "washes away in the tub."

"I don't trust it," he says.

"Out," I say pointing to the door.

He raises an eyebrow at me, "Carter…"

"You and Serendipity have costumes on the bed," I tell him.

"And what are they?" he asks.

"The theme was inspired by her middle name," I say with a grin.

"We're going Wizard of Oz?" he asks with a childish grin.

"Yep," I say closing the door, "Now onto hair dye."

"Hair dye!" Jack exclaims from the other side of the door.

"It's temporary," Cassie, and I both shout through the door.

"Better be," he mutters. There is a long pause before I hear, "What color?"

"Orange," Cassie says.

I hear a muffled, "Oi," from the other side of the door.

**Daniel**

"Are you going to tell me what I am now?" I ask Sam. She was very clock and dagger about this whole Halloween thing. She told me she had my costume picked out weeks ago, but wouldn't tell me what I was. Yesterday she handed it to me with instructions to show up at four wearing it to take Cassie and Serendipity on their first Halloween. I opened the bag after work today, and realized. I have no idea what I am.

"You seriously don't know what you are?" Jack asks sounding offended.

"Well I thought we were going with a farm theme, since I'm a scarecrow, but Jack's a lion, Serendipity is Little Red Ridding Hood, and Sam is a bear."

"You think she's Little Red Ridding Hood?" Sam asks in disbelief holding the baby closer to me as if closer inspection would cure me of my mistake.

"She's wearing blue," Jack points out, "Don't you think Red Ridding Hood would have a red hood?"

"Ok, I'm a little rusty on my fairy tales, but the theme is fairy tale?" I ask, "I don't know of any fairy tales with scarecrows, or bears," I say looking at Sam.

"First of all Daniel, your education is severely lacking, because there are lots of fairy tales with bears," Jack says to me. Then he turns to Sam, "and second of all, why are you dressed as a bear, Sam?"

"I am not a bear, I'm Toto," she says proudly.

"Why is Toto carrying Dorothy, Sam, it's supposed to be the other way around?"

"Oh come on, Jack, it's funny," she says.

"What are you guys talking about?"

Jack turns to me with an open mouth, "You've never seen the Wizard of Oz?"

"Movie?" I ask Sam. She starts laughing, and judging from the way she's looking at Jack as she laughs I don't dare look at him.

"Where did you grow up!" He explains angrily.

"Greece, Iraq, Egypt, and a variety of foster homes," I say looking at him.

His face falls, "Jeez, Daniel, I'm sorry…I forgot. It's just…you know what? We'll have a movie night."

"And I'm going to borrow you some fairy tale books," Sam says, "You think as a archeologist you would have studied some fairy tales…I mean oral tradition and what not."

"You're about a thousand year off my turf there, Sam," I say, "and I deal with writing and artifacts more than oral tradition."

"The man is an expert in just about every ancient culture, Carter, give him a break for not knowing his own," he says. It's both the best compliment and worse insult I've ever gotten. "And you can come learn about America with Cassie any time you want," he says clapping me on the back.

The doorbell rings, and Jack turns to Sam, "Tin man I presume?" he says with a wide grin.

They open the door, to revel Teal'c dressed up in a lot of metal.

"What kind of movie has a lion, bear, miniature girl, scarecrow, and a robot?" I ask.

"There are also flying monkeys," Teal'c says.

"He's not actually a robot," Jack says.

"Tin foil!" Cassie says rushing toward. I think this is an odd comment, especially since it seems to be in reference to Teal'c (could it be from the movie?). But as soon as I turn toward Cassie my mouth nearly drops to the floor.

She's green. Dark green with lighter green designs. Quite artistic, and I think I see a Stargate glyph or two in there, along with lots of other geometric designs. The hair is orange, with yellow highlights. It's sticking up at odd angels, but doesn't look full of gel like you'd expect. There are tin foil balls hanging off her head at odd angles. She has somewhere between fifteen and twenty limbs, and I'm not sure which ones she woke up with his morning. The costume, and the skin match amazingly well. She's also wearing a dress that is designed like Tinkerbelle's dress, but it's made out of shiny and metallic material.

"Alien princess?" I ask.

"Just alien," she says scrunching up her nose in a way that implies that princess is a grave insult.

"Daniel has a thing for alien princess," Jack teases.

"One time," I mutter.

"And you are no princess," Sam says, "A queen maybe, or a president."

"Architect, or artist I think, or maybe a prop manager for a big Hollywood movie with a get up like that," Jack says spinning her.

"So it's ok, I'm green?" she asks tentatively.

"Not as if I could stop it, but you have talent like that, and who can argue with you," he says.

"Sam did a lot of helping, I don't sew very well," Cassie says.

"The design is all yours," Sam says looking at her proudly.

"Well, Madam Alien, are you ready," Jack says offering her a hand.

"I still don't get this tradition," Cassie says.

"Well it all started with the Celtic festival of Samhaim…" I begin.

"Ah, ah, ah, none of that Daniel," he bends down to Cassie's level, "Here is how it works honey. You knock on doors, say 'trick or treat' and they give you candy, that is how it works."

Cassie looks up at me, "Daniel what is a Celtic?"

"He's corrupted her, made her curious," Jack says to Sam.

"They come like that," Sam replies.

**Jack**

I knock on the bathroom door, "Ok, Dipity is fed, bathed, and in bed, you doing ok?"

"Yeah," Sam says in her get the hell away from me I'm an independent woman voice.

"Ok, I'm just asking because you've been in there for a couple hours, and it's past Cassie's bedtime."

Sam sticks her head out the door, "I think I might need to run to the store for stronger soap."

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me."

"It's a reaction with her chemistry, the difference between earth humans and…" Sam protests.

"Yet, I still managed to predict this," I say.

"Jack," she says, and I know this is not the time for jokes.

"Look Sam, if you haven't gotten it out by now, it's not happening. Dry her off, and get her to bed," I say.

"Yeah," Sam says shutting the door and sounding sad.

"Crap," I mutter a bit too loudly, and she cracks the door open to raise an eyebrow at me.

"I'm taking her to school tomorrow," he says.

"Yeah?" she asks.

"They already think I'm an irresponsible parent," I say.

"I'm sure you can find a way to blame me," she says. I've already lightened the mood.

"They'd never believe it. They know that you're smart. Me…"

"They're fooled by, because you're the smarter one," she says.

"I'll get her to bed," I offer.

"Thanks," she says.

"I know how to use a towel people, I'm an alien, not an idiot," Cassie mutters.

"But you need your bedtime stories or you'll grow up to be as ignorant as Daniel."

That get's Sam laughing. Her guilt is melting away. Cassie emerges glad in pajamas. It's a somewhat lighter shade of green than I expected. And the hair is back to normal color.

"The hair came out," I offer.

"Yeah, bleach and hair dye," Sam says with a sigh, "I'm pretty sure we could get the green off too, but it's going to hurt, and skin cells are sloughing off naturally, so it will be lighter every day and in less than a week she'll be back to her normal color."

"I think tonight we should read some Green Cassie and Sam," I say.

Cassie grins.

"What you don't think those are the words?" I ask.

"I've yet to see you read the proper words in a book, Jack," Sam teases.

"But his words are funnier, Mom," Cassie says giving Sam a kiss before running into her bed for a tuck in.

Admit it, you think tin foil is amazing, too.


	24. Thanskgiving

**Sam**

When I was a kid mom used to prepare for Thanksgiving dinner weeks in advance. I always thought she was crazy, but now I get it. The hard part is that we're having Thanksgiving at the cabin and I won't be at the cabin until the day before Thanksgiving. An added difficulty is that we're flying. Yep, flying with a twelve year old and a six month old. Jack says it is going to be easier than driving. He knows more about kids than I do, but it doesn't particularly sound easier.

I also don't know how we are going to fit all these people into the cabin. Jack's Dad, my dad, Mark, Rachel, Lizzie, Paul, Daniel, Teal'c and Janet, as well as our family. Jack says families just find room for each other. I can't imagine this is going to work.

Dipity squirms in my arms. She's been sort of fussy all morning and she keeps rubbing her face against me.

"You still stressed?" Jack whispers taking the baby from me.

"Fine," I smile grimly as we approach the metal detector. Jack suddenly looks really weird and hands me Dipity back. He takes off his jacket and checks the pocket frantically.

"What, Jack?" I ask.

"Nothing," he mutters.

Ok, what is going on?

**Jack**

Yeah, almost forgot to take the ring out before going through airport security. That would have been a classy way to propose. Oh, yeah, the thing making me beep is the ring I plan on giving you tomorrow.

That's right; I'm going to propose over Thanksgiving. I want to do it in front of the family, but it's also very much about doing it at the cabin.

My grandpa proposed to my grandma there. My uncle to his wife. Two of my cousins proposed there. Every marriage that's lasted in my family started with a proposal at the cabin. My dad proposed in a restaurant. I proposed to Sara in my backyard while watching the stars. So it's silly and superstitious, but I want to propose at the cabin. I want this one to stick.

I hope she says yes. I mean, she hinted at marriage before, but it was probably a subconscious thing. She wanted to wait until this was right and that was only a few months ago. I might be crazy. I'll probably make this grand gesture and she'll just say no. But I have to ask. Even if she says no, I need her to know that this is forever. That I'll wait until she's ready for the yes.

**Sam**

It has been a long day. Dipity screamed from the second we got into the plane until the second we got off of it. People were giving us that, 'can't you control your kid look.' Really? What do they expect us to do? She's six months old! Jack and I took turns standing and bouncing with her which helped. Also used the pacifier, which I don't believe in, which we almost never use. But I was desperate, willing to do anything. I figured a lot of people chew gum when they are on a plane and this was kind of like that.

Well, the sleeping arrangements worked out, I suppose. I mean everyone has a place to sleep, but most of them are not exactly what you would call beds. Jack and I are in our usual room, Dipity is in a crib in our room. Cassie and her younger cousins are on the floor of the attic. We're selling it as a sleepover with sleeping bags. There is giggling which threatens to last all night, but considering the age difference I'm just pleasantly surprised. Mark and Rachel are in one of the other bedrooms. Bill is in his usual room. Dad's got the couch. Daniel, Teal'c and Janet are on air mattress in the living room and the kitchen. I wish I was kidding, but I'm not. Every available inch is filled with sleeping people.

But it's good, we laughed the whole afternoon.

"The kids asleep?" I ask as Jack comes back to the room after checking on them.

"Yeah, right," he says with a grin.

"You're right Jack, this is working," I say sitting down on the bed.

"Of course it is, family always works," he says. He looks at me really seriously, "We're family, aren't we?"

"Of course we are," I say.

"And this is working…not just Thanksgiving, but…ah…all of it?" he asks sitting down next to me on the bed.

"Of course," I say leaning against him. Oh, this is relaxing. I just realized how tense I've been all day.

"You know I love you," he says.

"Mmm," I say.

"And we were going to wait for the perfect time and…" I hear Jack's voice and I know he's saying something important, but I can't focus on it, because I'm so tired. So gloriously tired that I can't fight sleep anymore.

**Jack**

She fell asleep. I proposed, a damn good proposal, and she slept through it. I'm seething, but I also know it's all irrational. She put up with a screaming baby all day and is going to cook for a crazy full house tomorrow. She deserves her sleep.

But I really want to know if she's going to be my wife. I can't sit still right now. I need to walk, but wherever I went I'd be tripping over someone. Serendipity lets out the ear piercing cry like she was doing on the plane.

"Hey, baby girl, you know the ice house is heated? What say we go out there so we don't disturb the peace?

Dipity keeps pressing the side of her face against my chest. It feels strangely warm through my pajama shirt. I touch her forehead and then her neck. A little warm, but maybe not, hard to tell.

"You sick, baby girl?" I ask bouncing her. She leans her head hard against me once again.

"Your mother fell asleep while I proposed," I complain to her. "Just look at this," I say taking out the ring. "Mommy couldn't have said no if she saw this, could she have?" I ask, holding the ring before her. She tries to grab it. "Oh no, little one, you've a couple decades 'til you get one." But it's the first time all day she hasn't been fussing, "Ok, shiny things you little crow," I say letting her take it in her pudgy little hand. She pops it into her mouth and swallows.

"Shit!" I exclaim.

She stares at me with big eyes and starts crying. Well, at least it hasn't obstructed her breathing. I run into the house and shake Janet who is on an air mattress on the kitchen floor awake.

"Janet!" I whisper.

"What?" she asks squinting at me.

"Serendipity just ate some naquada, is she going to be alright?" I ask.

"Well, it shouldn't be a problem. Sam's got naquada in her blood, you know? But how big was this piece? I mean where did she get naquada?"

"It was a…ring," I confess.

Janet's eyes go big and she lets out a squeal she muffles with her own hand, "You proposed? You're getting married?"

"Not yet. No, but the kid?" I ask bouncing her a little to stop her from crying.

"Kids swallow things all the time. I'm sure she'll be fine and it will leave her system naturally, but we should go get an x-ray just in case. We'll need to make sure it isn't obstructing anything or doing damage."

"Ok, x-ray, we'll take her to the doctor. I need to wake up Sam."

"Let me take her, Jack," Janet says extending her arms toward the baby, "She's going to be ok," she smiles at me.

I nod. I have to tell my wife that I've endangered our daughter…once again.

"Sam," I whisper. She jumps up and I know she's ready to fight. I love that about her. The mission mind never quite goes away, no matter how relaxed she gets.

"What's wrong?" she asks with a little bit of a gasp.

"Ah…I just wanted to let you know Janet and I are going to take Dipity to the doctor," I mutter.

"What? What's wrong with her? I knew she was sick! She's been whiny and sick all day. What's wrong with her? Is she going to be ok?"

I nod, "Janet says she's going to be just fine. She ah…swallowed some naquada."

Sam jumps up and starts pulling clothes on, "What do you mean she swallowed naquada? Where did she get it?"

"I'm sorry, Sam. God, I am so sorry. I just had some around," I mutter.

She turns and gives me a weird look, but doesn't pause getting ready to do it, "Why do you have naquada? And how big is it? It's not caught somewhere is it?"

"No, she's fine."

"Jack, seriously, you're not going to avoid this one. Just tell me what she swallowed," she says grabbing my shoulder.

"A ring."

Her eyes grow wide and she grins, kissing me, "When we get back from the hospital I'm saying yes," she informs me.

My mouth breaks into a grin involuntarily. I wasn't sure.

"But she's ok?" she says seriously.

I nod, "Ok, I'm ready," she says. "Crap!" she exclaims.

"What?" did she change her mind already?

"Tomorrow is Thanksgiving," she says.

"I know," I ruined thanksgiving.

"I…I have to go take my daughter to the hospital, but I have to cook…" she seems really torn and she looks like she can't decide what to do.

"So stay and I'll take care of Dipity, or go and have your dad do it," I say.

"You think he could do it?" she asks.

"Seriously Sam. He's a better cook than anyone else in this house and the man's fought wars. He can handle Thanksgiving," I say.

She nods. "I'll just be a minute, Jack."

**Jacob **

I have a strange awareness in my sleep. I picked it up at some point in my training, or perhaps when the kids were small, I don't know. Every motion registers in my brain, but I don't process any of it until I need to. So I'm not surprised by Sam sitting down on the couch. It's not like I didn't know she was there.

"Sammy?" I ask opening up my eyes.

"I'm sorry Dad," she whispers. "I have to go. Can you watch Cassie and start Thanksgiving? I'll try to get back as soon as I can."

"What is going on?" I ask.

"Serendipity swallowed something. Janet thinks she'll be fine, but we're taking her to the doctor."

"What did she swallow?" I whisper.

"A ring," Sam says and a little light comes into her eyes as she says it.

I sit up and give her a big hug, "Finally! Honey, I'm so glad! You're getting married?"

"Shh…" she whispers, even though I said it quietly though excitedly, "he hasn't actually proposed. I…I think he was going to."

"Jack was with her when it happened?" I ask.

"Yeah," she says. She has no idea. She doesn't get that Jack is still feeling guilty about Charlie.

"He's got to be freaking out, blaming himself," I tell her. Her eyes go wide.

"Of course, I should have thought of that. Dad, are you ok with Thanksgivin?, The turkey goes in at…"

"I got this, Sam," I assure her, "I've done Thanksgiving before." Actually every year since Dot died. Not that Sam hasn't helped. The first time she came out and discovered I'd left all the innards in the turkey. Still in the plastic bags and everything.

"I'll just stand him on his head and take it out," I'd told her that year, I say now to get a tension free smile.

She smiles and gives me a hug.

**Sam**

Janet is driving the car and Jack and I are sitting one on each side of the baby, in the back.

"Are you sure she's going to be ok?" I ask Janet.

"Pretty sure, Sam," she says.

"Jack, you know this isn't your fault right?" I ask.

He turns to look out the window.

"Jack, seriously," I touch his shoulder, "you didn't do anything wrong."

"Don't give me that crap, Sam! I let her hold the damn thing!"

"Kids swallow things all the time," I say soothingly.

"Exactly the point, I should have known better!"

"Jack, come on, I've given her a lot of things I shouldn't have. I've given her my keys to shake…"

"…which are too big to fit down her throat."

"Which makes them a bigger choking hazard," I say.

"I shouldn't have even had the ring out," he mutters.

"Not your fault, and she's going to be fine."

"I swore this time I'd keep her safe," he mutters.

"You are Jack," I say.

"Carter, our kid has been alive for six months, already I'm responsible for two trips to the hospital," he says bitterly.

"Well, the closest she came to death was when she was still inside of me," I say.

"Jeez Sam, that threatened miscarriage wasn't your fault."

"And her pneumonia and her swallowing this ring is not your fault." I see the lines on his face relax. I'm not stupid enough to believe that he actually believes me. But at least he believes that I don't blame him and that's more than Sara gave him. "So, Jack, why was the ring out?" I tease, wanting to distract him from worry now that he isn't feeling quality anymore.

"I was just feeling sorry for myself," he mutters.

I don't know what he means by that, but I do know that this isn't a good sign for our relationship. He doesn't want to marry me. I want to marry him. But, I won't marry a reluctant groom. I'd never do that to Jack. Shit, I already told him yes and he never even asked me. Never even intended to ask me.

"It's ok, we can…we can pretend she never swallowed this…ring. We can pretend you never had it," I mutter.

He looks at me confused, "Why the hell would we want to do that?"

I squint at him, "You were looking at an engagement ring feeling sorry for yourself," I restate to him.

He laughs a little, "I was feeling sorry for myself, because you fell asleep during my proposal last night," I tilt my head at him in surprise, "I originally meant to do it at Thanksgiving dinner," he offers.

"Jack I'm sorry," I say reaching out. That was a proposal? I mean he was saying pretty nice things, but he always says pretty nice things. "If you propose now, I promise not to fall asleep."

I hear a squeal from the front seat.

"Let's stick with the Thanksgiving plan," he says. Dipity makes a little whine and we both move to comfort her.

"She's still leaning her head on stuff," I mutter.

"I know, I wonder what's going on," he says.

"Jack…what exactly is this ring made of…just so I can figure out how dangerous it is?" I ask.

"You know Sam, if you want me to describe the ring you could just ask," he says.

He takes my hand.

"Jack, could you please describe this engagement ring to me?"I plead.

"It's Stargate inspired."

"Well yeah, naquada," I say.

He starts fiddling with the place the ring will go, "It's got chevrons, Sam."

"Chevrons?" I say startled.

"Obviously they're not functional," he mutters.

"What do you mean by chevrons?" I prod.

"Just wait 'til you see it," he mutters offended pulling his hand away from mine.

"Jack, I'm sorry, chevrons," I say seriously.

"Birth stones, ours and the kids. Well, mine is peridot."

"You were born in October," I remind him.

"I know, but I like Peridot," he says.

"So four birthstones, two tanzanite, emerald and peridot," I say.

"Yes, the tanzanite for Cassie is blue and yours is purple."

"This has got to be the most original ring ever," I mutter.

"There are also glyphs, between the chevrons-ah signs of the zodiac. Scorpio for me, Sagittarius for you, Taurus for Serendipity and Cassiopeia for Cassie, I know it's…" Jack says

"That's perfect," I say, "All of its perfect."

"All of it…even the guy?" he asks nervously.

"Mostly the guy," I say. He isn't looking at me, so I pull his face closer to mine, "I love you, so much Jack. So much."

"I love you too…always. Ah…it says always on the inside of the ring."

"Wow," I say with a grin.

Jack is suddenly shy, conscious of Janet. He turns toward me as much as he can and he rubs Serendipity's head gently.

"Sam…I wanted you to know this…engagement…it's not about her," he whispers like he's apologizing to the baby, "and it's not about Cassie. If this was just about them I wouldn't ask you. We'd just go on living together, loving each other and them. But this…this is about us. This is about me deciding I want to wake up next to you, always. That I want to love you and you only, always. That if we didn't have kids, I'd still want you, always." Sniff from the front seat. Janet is no doubt unbelievably thrilled because she gets to hear this.

I clasp his hand over our daughters ever lightening head, "Jack I love you. You love me way more than I deserve," he shakes his head and starts to protest, but I talk more quickly to stop him. "I know you've been telling me how amazing I am and you'd better be careful before I start believing it. I've known for awhile now that we are meant to be together forever. When I was engaged to Jonas I was so worried, so full of doubts. I didn't know if it was right. I could never decide. With you Jack, I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt. I'm not scared about my future. I know it will be good as long as you stay with me. I know we're great together. That you're good to me. That you're good to our kids. I know…they aren't supposed to come into this."

"Just because I wanted them left out of it, doesn't mean you have to," he says, but he sounds disappointed.

"No, Jack….I'm not marrying you because you happen to share a genetic tie to Serendipity and a legal one to Cassie. But they are part of it. The way you are with them…it's part of the reason I love you, trust you so much. I don't…trust easy."

"You've never been given much reason to," he says giving me an awkward, across the car seat hug.

"Jack you're an amazing person. You're so moral. So strong. Smarter than you let on. Brave. And so full of love. So I'm saying "always". I'm counting myself lucky to be able to say "always" to you."

He leans forward and gives me a kiss over our baby.

"And I wasn't going to try proposing again for at least ten hours."

"You could do it again," Janet pipes up from the front seat, "I'm sure the boys would enjoy that as much as I did."

I put my hand on my daughter's tiny stomach, "hey you know your parents are getting married?" I ask her.

"Getting married," he says with a grin. I let my head bounce against Jack's shoulder.

**Jack**

Janet is the very definition of power. Or maybe authority would be a better word. Daniel was talking about the difference between the two the other day. Anyway the point is, she gets results. I'm pretty sure Dipity wouldn't already be getting an x-ray if she wasn't so authoritative.

"Your baby is absolutely fine," the doctor assures us handing Dipity back to Sam. "She should pass the object in a couple days. Do you know what the object is?" he asks Sam with a sly smile.

"Yes," she grins, "my fiancé told me on the way there."

"Fiancé," I say. She looks suddenly nervous and I guess she has reason to be since we never got around to calling each other boyfriend/girlfriend, "that sounds good."

"Doctor, could you tell him that children that age swallow these things all the time and that he shouldn't feel guilty about it?" she asks.

"She's right. It's a developmental stage that all children go through," the doctor assures me.

"See," she says giving me a little peck on the cheek. I take the baby out of her arms.

I touch her forehead with concern, "you know she feels warm, she cried on the plane."

"I could advise a good child development book," the doctor offers.

"I've probably read it and this isn't his first kid. She keeps rubbing the side of her face against everything," Sam says obviously offended. It's almost like the baby understood and demonstrated Sam's words.

The doctor grabs the ear looking tool off the table and peeks into Dipity's ears. Dipity flinches away and suddenly I know what's wrong with her. I should have figured it out before.

"Sam…we took a kid with an ear infection on a plane," I tell her.

Her eyes grow wide.

"I should have figured it out. But when Charlie had an ear infection he cried a lot more than she did."

"You're right; she is pretty quiet for a baby with an ear infection. But some children take it well. In fact, a recent study reports that the vast majority of ear infections might go undiagnosed. Parents either think their child is just being fussy or they don't even notice anything is different," the doctor sooths.

I'm trying not to blame myself, because I'm starting to realize that that isn't exactly psychologically healthy.

Sam puts her arm around me and I'm pretty sure it's her way of telling me not to blame myself.

"Ok, is there something we can do for it?" I ask.

"I'll send you home with some antibiotics and you can give her over-the-counter pain medicine," the doctor says. *

"She's been on antibiotics before. Just like she's had a chest x-ray before," I mutter. Sam tightens her grip on me and puts another arm around the baby.

"Ear infections are very common, they are really nothing to worry about," the doctor assures us.

**Daniel**

When I hear someone clinking around in the kitchen in the morning I expect to see Sam and wonder why Jacob and Janet aren't waking up. When I open my eyes I see that Jacob is actually the one moving around in the kitchen. Janet is nowhere to be seen, but her bed is put away.

"'morning Jacob. Is Sam sleeping in?" I ask.

"Ah…no, a couple of people made a trip to town," he says looking like he's trying to hide something from me.

"Who? Why?" I ask.

"Jack, Sam, Janet and Dipity," he mutters, ignoring the other question.

"Why did they take the baby in to town this early in the morning?" I ask.

"Dipity ah…they just wanted to get her checked out, but they are sure she is fine," he rushes on.

"What is wrong with her?" I ask.

"She swallowed something," he says in a way that lets on that I'm probably not going to get out of him exactly what she swallowed. The tone implies that I might not even want to know what it was.

"But Janet thinks she'll be fine?" I ask.

"Yeah, she was pretty sure."

"So you got stuck with Thanksgiving?" I ask.

"Yep, done it before you know," he says a little defensively.

"Good, because I have no idea. I'm quite willing to do work if you supervise," I offer.

"Peel," he says handing me some potatoes.

Just then the door opens and Sam enters. She's got a big grin on her face, but her eyes look kind of worried.

"Jack, you going to give her the medicine?" she asks softly.

"Medicine?" Jacob says looking worried.

"Turns out she has an ear infection as well," Sam says holding her out to Jack. He takes the baby and gives Sam a kiss on her forehead before disappearing into the bedroom.

"Jack…do we have any news?" she asks.

He turns back to her and gives her a huge smile, "Let's wait until dinner, Sammy," he says with shiny eyes. He doesn't get a glare for calling her Sammy, which is strange.

Jacob walks over and pulls his daughter into a little side hug. "You got news?" he asks.

Sam nods.

"Good," he says kissing her temple, "and the baby is ok?"

She nods, "The thing she swallowed is no big deal, but she's got an ear infection."

"Kids get those," Jacob says.

"I know. I'd better get started on Thanksgiving," she mutters.

"Turkey is stuffed and in the oven. And I've got Daniel peeling potatoes. Why don't you go lay down honey?"

"No, I'll help," she says.

"You've been up all night, you and Jack go take a nap," he insists.

"Mom!" Cassie says bouncing around the corner "Is everything ok?"

"Fine," I say. But it occurs to me that she deserves to hear the news first. "Your sister is ok, but you should probably come with me and your dad for a little bit."

I go into our bedroom and see Jack's rocking Dipity. Her head is firmly placed against his shoulder and the medicine is still laying out on the nightstand. I go to close the bottle up. "Jack, I think we should tell our daughter the good news."

He nods, "Cassie, Dipity swallowed an engagement ring," he says with a grin.

"Is she going to be ok?" Cassie asks with concern.

"She's fine, but it was an engagement ring," Jack repeats.

"Honey," I say sitting down next to her, "it means that Jack and I are going to get married."

"You're betrothed?" she asks, her eyes getting huge.

I nod and she lets out a squeal before nearly squeezing me to death and giving the same treatment to Jack's legs.

"When are you getting married? On Hanka people get betrothed young, but they stay betrothed for a long time. For a couple of years," she suddenly frowns.

Jack glances at me; we haven't talked about that yet.

"I'm thinking within the year," I say looking at him.

"Sounds wonderful," he says.

"Soon?" Cassie asks bouncing back and forth from one leg to another.

I bite my lip; I should just say yes, goodness knows everyone has waited long enough. "I was thinking we could wait until Dipity is walking. I want both my girls to be in the wedding."

Cassie starts bouncing harder, "I get to be in the wedding?"

"Of course," I say confused by her surprise.

"On Hanka, weddings are a private ceremony. The father of the bride and the mother of the groom and the couple and the priest all go into the building and they get married. Afterword, the whole village has a celebration. But I can be part of the actual wedding?"

"Yeah, you can help me plan it too if you want," I tell her.

Cassie lets out another squeal. "I am keeping veto power," Jack warns.

"Do men wear dresses on your planet, Cassie?" I tease.

"Veto!" Jack explains.

"Keep this quiet until dinner, ok?" I ask. She nods her head, "And then Dad said we should nap. He's got the food under control and there are quite a few hours left until dinner."

"Alright Cass, see you in a couple of hours," he says ruffling her hair. She skips out of the room. Jack places the sleeping baby into the crib.

"You ok, with waiting half a year?" I whisper.

"I like the idea of our kids being involved, hence the ring," he says touching my bare finger.

"My finger feels naked without your ring and I've never even put it on," I whisper.

"Soon Samantha, and then your finger will never be naked again," he whispers sitting down on the edge of the bed and pulling off his shoes.

"I can't wait to be your wife, Jack O'Neill," I say slipping my shoes off and laying down. He lies down next to me and I wrap my arms around him, "then I'll be Samantha O'Neill.

He grins, "Then our family will share a name."

But I wonder, does he think our family is whole? Once he mentioned he wanted more kids. Is it fair to him to say yes when I don't intend to give him more kids? Will we ever be complete? Anything more than an accidental family? He deserve more than us.

**Daniel**

I don't know if I've ever had a real Thanksgiving before. I thought I had, but I'm pretty sure I'm wrong. When I was little we were always in a country that didn't celebrate Thanksgiving. We took part in a lot of cultural festivals, but none of them were Thanksgiving. Then my foster families did Thanksgiving, but it was stiff and formal compared to this affair. As were the friends I went home with when I was in college.

A real family Thanksgiving is pretty chaotic. There are so many people in the kitchen that we don't even have room to move. In order to take something off the stove it has to be done like a bucket brigade. We pass steaming pots down the way. I don't know how to cook any of this food, but when they give me orders I am able to follow them.

We sit down to dinner and pause to all say what we're thankful for.

"I get to go first," Jack proclaims standing up with childlike excitement. I expect the actual child in the room to protest, but she's looking up at him with a goofy grin on her face. "I'm thankful for my family," Jack says looking to his dad, "and Sam's family who are good enough to claim me," Jacob gives him a wink and Mark gives him a nod, "and our kids," he smiles at Cassie and the baby, "and" he says putting one hand on each of Sam's shoulders "and my fiancé."

There is a pause.

"Wait," Mark says in surprise.

"Fiancé," Sam nods looking up a Jack who is standing above her.

"Hold it, when exactly did you get engaged?" I ask.

"About one am as I drove them to the hospital," Janet says with a squeal.

"The baby swallowed the engagement ring," Sam explains.

"Not exactly the way I intended to propose," Jack says.

Sam tilts her head back and Jack bends over to place a kiss on it. "It worked though. I can't imagine a way you could have asked that would have made me say no."

"Welcome to the family," Rachel says standing up to give Jack a hug.

"Congratulations, Sam," I say pulling her into a hug.

"Finally!" Jacob announces, giving Jack a clap on the back.

"Ah, you're going to have to wait a little longer to make it official," Jack says.

"I'm going to be in the wedding!" Cassie announces, standing up on a chair.

"Really?" Paul says looking up at her with admiration.

"Yep and I'm planning it," Cassie continues.

"I believe Sam said you could 'help plan it'," Jack corrects.

Cassie nods enthusiastically as if that's what she said all along.

"Tell them about the ring!" Janet exclaims, looking almost as excited as Cassie.

"Chevrons," Sam says with a wide grin.

"A birthstone for each of us, set like a chevron," Jack elaborates. Cassie starts bouncing on her chair and Jack walks over to lift her off of it and set her on the ground.

"Glyphs representing our birthstones, except Cassie's is Cassiopeia-the queen," Jack adds.

Cassie jumps up to kiss him on his cheek.

"'Cause I love my girls," he says spinning her around.

There are hugs all around and so much talking and laughing that we end up heating our whole meal in the microwave. We're having leftovers for Thanksgiving dinner.

**Sam**

I wake up in the middle of the night to hear Jack singing. I think back and I'm pretty sure I've never heard this before. Cassie begged him to sing once, but he gave her a resounding no.

Jack's back is toward me and Dipity's ear is pressed hard against Jack's his shoulder,

"…and if that Goa'uld symbiote don't squeal, Daddy's gonna bring you your uncle Teal'c.

And if Uncle Teal'c doesn't raise his brow, Daddy's gonna buy you…"I see the moment he gives up on rhyming. Given the one rhyme I heard, he probably wasn't having success with it, "quantum mirror.

And if that quantum mirror don't flash, Daddy's gonna buy you a Stargate chevron.

If that chevron don't get a lock, Daddy's gonna buy you sarcophagus,

If that sarcophagus don't raise the dead, Daddy's gonna buy you an interdimensional wormhole…"

He spins with her and sees that I'm awake.

"I'm pretty sure she understands at least part of what you say," I tell him.

"You sing it and all they hear is Daddy's voice," he mutters.

"Jack, I haven't changed my mind about not having more kids…I just thought it was only fair I tell you that before we got married."

He pauses for so long that I begin to wonder if the whole deal is off. If on Monday we'll be house shopping and splitting our households.

He moves closer to me and starts to sit down. Dipity's whimper makes him stand back up. "Samantha, I am unbelievably lucky to have the family I do. I'm happy with this family. I'd be happy with another baby too. But I am completely and totally satisfied with this family. I am never going to pressure you to have another kid. Never going to be disappointed with the fact that we don't have another kid. And the whole wanting another kid, that was before we got Cassie."

"I'm more worried about you giving up something you want," I tell him, standing up and leaning in so we're hugging each other and rocking the baby between us.

"Samantha, no…you're not asking me to give up anything. I'm not settling here. If I had the option right now of ending up with another woman, our two kids and one more or you and our two kids it would not be a debate, not even for a second."

"Even if the other woman was Sara?" I ask before I even knew I was going to.

He pulls me away and looks at me for a good long moment, "Sam, no matter how much you stacked the deck in Sara's favor I would never, ever, ever pick her."

I never meant to bring it up, but since we're talking about it I decided to really talk about it. "She left you," I whisper.

"And it killed me and if she asked me back that first year, I would have said yes. But not now, Sam. Not now. You are twice the woman Sara could ever hope to be," he says rubbing my back carefully.

"I'm not just the one that wanted you?"

"You're the one I wanted Samantha. You're the only one I love," he says kissing my neck, "Never doubt that, Samantha. I love you. I choose you. I want you." He says those three things again and again, rocking the baby between us. He says it a dozen or so times before Dipity falls asleep. Then he puts her into the crib and whispers it a few more times lazily as we fall asleep. **

*Now days we know that only rarely do anti-biotic help ear infections and that they always lead to developing anti-biotic resistant superbugs. But we didn't know that in the 1990's when this story is set. And, let's be honest, most doctors are still giving antibiotics for ear infections because they don't read the medical journals and know this. Even though a teacher knows this. But hey, my own profession is guilty of the same crime I don't know how many time my students have walked into my special ed classroom with an assignment that makes me what to beat my head against the wall, because we proved it does absolutely nothing to further learning about five years ago. Really a word search? Why? Do you know those are like torture champers to my little dyslexics? So I can't be too hard on the doctors for not always doing best practice. Also, doctors get pretty annoyed when you tell them what best practice in their field is. Even more annoyed when you cite your sources.

Ok, Ok, I promise this whole story is not going to be Dipity being sick. I realize I've overdone that. She will have no more health concerns for a bit now.

**Canon Jack is still in love with Sara at least through the end of Season 1. By season four he's over her, but we can never be sure exactly when that change happens. This Jack however, is not lying to Sam. Rest assured.


	25. Secrets

Are we sorta done with this story folks?I've lost about half my readers, but if the half still with me are really with me I can go on. Otherwise I can always through a couple snapshot chapters and an epilogue on it, and we can all move on with our lives.

**Sam**

Jack is getting an award, because of his unauthorized mission onto Apophis's ship. Not many military bases would reward you for breaking the rules, even when it turns out well for you. But Stargate Command is good for recognizing brilliance, at least when you save the world.

"You know, I can navigate myself across a galaxy, but I get lost every time I come to Washington," Jack says to me.

I laugh. This place fills me with a strange homesickness. But I'm not about to admit that to Jack. He'd never understand that missing politics doesn't mean I don't love my job and that missing being single doesn't mean I want to do that ever again. That I don't love him and our girls.

"Don't worry Jack, these are my old stomping grounds," I assure him, shifting Serendipity from one side to the other. The girls and I are walking Jack up to his part and from there we are going to leave him to what he considers torture. I'd like to go in with him, to protect him from the bureaucrats, but formal receptions and kids don't mix, so I'll be taking them to the park.

"Sorry to hear that," he says.

"Two years at the Pentagon trying to make the Stargate program a reality, I'd say it was time well spent, considering," I say.

"Ya think?" Jack asks sarcastically. He takes Serendipity from my arms and gives her a kiss. My engagement ring catches in the sunlight and I grin a little. I haven't stopped grinning at that ring since I first saw it cleaned a few weeks ago.

**Jack**

My girls leave me on the steps to the ball. I find myself wishing I was going with them to the park instead of doing my rounds at a government thing. I grab punch and see Hammond across the room. I walk toward General Hammond. The guy he's talking to turns around and it turns out to be Jacob Carter in full military dress.

"I invited Jake myself, Colonel. I thought you might enjoy the surprise."

"Where is my daughter?" Jacob asks.

"Took the kids to the park," I say.

"Maybe we can meet up with them later?" Jacob says. I nod. "Anyway, when George told me you were up for the Air Medal for your work in…" he turns to General Hammond, "what the hell was that again? Um…"

"Analysis of deep space radar telemetry," General Hammond says.

"Right," he says with a face which clearly says he doesn't believe us.

**Sam**

I'm not really surprised when Jack shows up a full half an hour before the meeting was actually supposed to be over. I am surprised to see him show up with my dad.

"Grandpa!" Cassie yells running toward him. Serendipity looks startled by her sister's running and starts crawling too. I scoop her up and bring her over. When the welcoming hugs are all done, Jack goes to play with the kids. He's in his dress blues, which I happen to know make him very uncomfortable and it can't be the funnest way to play, but he seems to know Dad and I need a little bit of time.

"Just between us, your cover stories could use a little polish," Dad says.

"Sorry, Dad, I don't know what you're talking about," I say.

"No, of course not, I'm out of line. But whatever it is you really analyze in that mountain, deep space or no deep space, it can't be as exciting as the real thing. I'm talking about getting you into NASA. I'm talking you actually going to space some day," he says with a grin which implies he expects my undying admiration right about now. "I made a call to Bollinger himself. Head of NASA?"

"I know," he says with a little laugh. I can't believe he doesn't even think I know who the head of NASA is.

"I told him that you'd wanted to become an astronaut since you were a little girl. And that you'd given up—"

"I didn't give up!" I protest.

"Let me finish. That you gave up waiting for the shuttle program to be reinstated after the Challenger disaster," he continues.

"Yeah, it was bad timing," I say.

"Yes, well. I called in a few markers. I filled them in on your qualifications. You apply again as an Air Force nominee, young lady and I think you'll find NASA supportive," he says holding onto my arms at the elbow.

"There's a waiting list a mile long," I say dismissively hoping that he will drop it.

"Not for you," he says with a wide grin.

"Dad, you can't do that," I protest.

"I did," he says.

"Without talking to me first?" I ask sternly.

"You're telling me you don't want this? They know what you're capable of offering the Space Program, Samantha, they want you!" and I know my Dad is not going to leave this without a very good reason.

"That's not the point! The work I am doing right now is very important to me," I tell him the real reason. The real reason with a few less details perhaps, but none the less.

He makes that dismissive, 'I don't believe you for a minute' face and says, "It's not your dream."

"Let's just leave it at that, please?

"At least talk to them, then. Do that much for me," he says it like a command.

I make a grim smile, "I knew sooner or later you'd make this about you."

"All right," he says walking over to play with the kids.

"Dad, it's not that I don't appreciate it—"I say pleadingly, because I do feel bad.

"I said "all right"," he mutters.

I really do want to please my dad, but I just don't see a way that I can please him and still…I just can't give up the Stargate program. It really is too important and I can't do anything to let him know how important what I do really is.

**Sam-Later**

Dipity is down for her nap in the stroller and Cassie is playing on the playground. The adults are all sitting on the bench, Jack with his arm around me. "So Jack, you got the Air Medal, didn't he get this about the same time that Sam got back from maternity leave?" Dad asks.

"Sam and I actually flipped for the mission," Jack says.

"Flipped for something that would change your career?" Dad asks.

"Jack gave me the better job when I came back. He's done everything he can to make sure my career was not negatively affected.

"I have cancer, Sam," Dad suddenly blurts out.

"What?" I ask.

"Lymphoma," he elaborates.

"That's bad" I say.

"Well, it's not good. But it's not the worst. Don't you worry. I'll be around for a while," he says with the voice he used to lie to me with when I was a small child.

"Oh God, Dad!" I say pulling him into a hug.

"I was hoping to stick around long enough to see you become an astronaut," he says. I shake my head. Even now that I know this I can't quit the Stargate. Even if I wanted to give that up, and I don't, I couldn't expect Jack and the kids to give up their lives and follow me. "Sweetheart, I don't care what it is you do in that mountain; nothing in the world can live up to the chance of actually going to space." He says squinting his eyes to exaggerate the word, "Not for you. It's something you've wanted your whole life. And I admit it; I want to see you fulfill your life's dreams before I die."

"It's my dream. Doesn't that make it up to me?" I ask. Jack tightens his grip around my shoulders as I say those words.

"Fathers have dreams, too," Dad says.

"Sorry, I can't…" I say.

"All right," he says stiffly. "Like I said, this thing's going to go on for months, so you don't have to check up on me tomorrow," he says calling out "Goodbye Cass."

"Dad, please don't go like this…" I plead.

"Congratulations on the medal, Jack. I'm sure you deserve it," he says as he gives Cassie a quick hug before walking off.

I sit back down on the bench. Jack pulls me close to him.

"Cancer," I whisper.

"I know, Carter," he says pulling me close to him.

"He doesn't know why I keep saying no," I mutter.

"I know, Sam…it isn't because of me is it? It's because of the Stargate, you're saying no?" he whispers into my hair.

I nod my head.

"'Cause I think it's a better deal than space. But if you actually wanted to do the NASA thing…"

"God you're a good guy, Jack," I say cutting him off.

"So…moving?" he asks looking at me.

"Not moving," I say.

He nods his head and holds me against him for a bit longer before he says, "It's getting a little cold out here and Dipity's almost done with her nap. What say we head back to our hotel room."

I nod my head, "Think we can see Dad again before we leave?"

"I think that can be arranged."


	26. Sad Christmas

****Ok, well it looks like those of you still reading are still enjoying, so I'll do the long version. You probably don't know what you just asked for. I have vague plans for a least through season eight, although i plan on doing fewer Chapters per season staring with season three. this story could very well go into post-serious, and is likely to be my longest story ever. It's already getting close.

**Jack**

"Are they going to stop making noise anytime soon?" I ask.

Sam laughs, "Clearly you've never been to a thirteen year old girl's birthday party."

"No, boys don't tend to get invited to those things, so you're telling me that this giggling isn't going to stop anytime soon?" I ask.

"No, this giggling is pretty much going to continue until their parents come to pick them up tomorrow," she tells me.

"You were having fun with it too," I say with a grin, "Painting toenails, giving makeovers, helping them make their own individual homemade pizzas."

A shadow crosses her face too quickly for me to catch the cause.

"So you have a birthday next week. What are we planning for that? A sleep over with eight of your closest friends just like Cassie? I bet Teal'c would let you paint his nails if we came up with a good enough line of BS."

She doesn't smile.

"I'm kidding. You don't have to have a party like a little kid. We can do whatever you want for your birthday: dinner out with or without the kids, team night, party, whatever you want."

She shifts a little, "Jack…I don't want to do anything for my birthday."

What did we do last year? Crap. "Sam…I'm sorry…last year…we didn't do anything for your birthday."

"I know," she says in something just over a whisper, "I was so grateful."

"What?" I whisper.

"I was so glad I didn't have to tell you why I don't do birthdays."

I turn to her and wordlessly wait for her to continue.

"My mom died…a couple weeks before I turned fourteen."

I put my arm around her, "Ok so that explains one birthday", but…"

"Jack…I haven't had a birthday since. I mean, it's few days after Christmas so it never made sense…"

"Sam, you just stopped doing birthdays? No sweet sixteen, no eighteenth, or wild twenty one?"

"By the time I was twenty-one, I was…"

"At the academy, but people still go out for their birthday, even if their leave is a bit later." Sam…you deserve a birthday. You can't stop living just because something horrible happened. How would you feel if Cassie did that? Just said, 'hey my parents died, I'm done. No Halloween, no Christmas, no birthdays'."

"Jack, just please?" she begs.

"Ok, I'll drop it," I sooth.

But I'm not going to drop it.

**Sam**

I hope the phone never rings again. I'm serious. I have considered disconnecting it a few thousand times today. But each one of these phone calls gets a little bit easier. I actually have the whole conversation down pat.

"Yes, I'm aware that Cassie told everyone at the slumber party that she's an alien…I agree it's unacceptable. I'm going to have a talk with her after school today. Please understand that before we adopted her, Cassie watched her entire village die in a horrific way…No, of course that doesn't give her a reason to make up stories…I realize some of the children actually believed her…"

I think everyone who was actually at the birthday party must have told this story to a thousand people. I'm just glad I had the day off after a rather grueling two day mission.

"Hey mom!" Cassie says as she climbs into the car.

I pull out into traffic. I would really rather have the conversation while not moving, but people picking up their kids from middle school are, on the whole, a rather crazy lot.

"What's wrong?" she asks nervously.

"Honey, what exactly did you say at the party?" I ask.

Her eyes get big.

"Honey…I just need to know why you…"

"I'm not from Toronto," she whispers.

"I know you aren't."

"I just…lying is wrong right?"

Ah, the morals of a child, always less deadened than an adult. "It is, but…" they'll call you crazy. You'll lose friends. They'll call child services and try to take you away from us. They'll lock you up. "Sometimes you just can't."

She nods.

"I knew I shouldn't have, but…three a.m. It's a really honest time you know? I just…I've been lying to them for more than a year. And they asked me about my home and I just…told them."

"Honey…I'm sorry, but we're going to let them think it was a lie."

She nods.

"I already talked to their moms. I don't think they'll ask you questions."

She gives me a quizzical look. My stomach twists up. How do you explain playing the traumatized kid card to a traumatized kid?

"Cassie, have you ever heard that the best lie is the one that is closest to the truth? I told them…that you lost your parents in a pretty…horrible way. I think they'll…"

"Not mind that I'm lying, even though I told the truth."

"Something like that…but…"I glance at her trying to figure out if I should say what I want to say, "It's not really an excuse. I mean you didn't actually do something wrong, but…"

"My parents really did die in a horrible way," she says sounding sort of surprised.

I look at her, worried.

"I know they did…I mean…I was there. I…saw them…held them. But it just never seemed like…you never treated me different. Never lowered your standards. You still expected me to…live, to do my homework and paint pictures, dress up for Halloween, have sleepovers. You…treated me normal and I guess it never occurred to me that I'm a freak. I mean I'm an alien orphan."

"No," I say shaking my head, "You're my daughter. And you are normal."

She bites her lip, "I won't tell anyone again…I promise. I don't want you to have to…make excuses for me."

"Honey…I do want you to…not mention the fact that you're from another planet. But you get that that is very, very, very different from wishing you weren't from another planet right? You get that I want you to be you and never try to be someone else."

"Just pretend to be someone else."

God, what am I doing to my kid? "Cassie…"

"It's fine. You didn't make the rule," she says jamming her backpack under the dash with her foot.

"Cassie…when It's us…just be you ok? Completely you."

"Ok," she mutters sadly.

I grip the steering wheel more tightly, my stomach starts doing cartwheels. I should talk to Jack before I say this, but… "Cassie…if you wanted to…I mean maybe it wasn't fair to you to ask you to live here. We have allies on worlds where the Stargate isn't a secret…"

She starts bawling so hard I pull the car to the side of the road and park. "What?" I ask pulling her into my arms.

"I swear I'll never do it again," she sobs, "please don't send me away."

"Oh, no, no, sweetie. I was not sending you away. Never. Jack and I adopted you. You're ours forever and ever, as long as you want us. You didn't do anything wrong and even if you did I would never send you away. Ever. There is nothing you could do that would make you stop being my daughter," I say stroking her hair, "I just didn't want to force you to lie. If you wanted to go somewhere else…I don't want to trap you."

Her sobs have calmed, "You're my mom…Jack's my dad. I don't want to go anywhere else."

"No one is going anywhere. We've got you forever," I say rubbing her back.

"I thought you changed your mind…now you have a real daughter," she mutters.

"You are every bit as real as Dipity. Just because you weren't born to me doesn't mean you're not mine. God, sweetie, I would never send you away unless it was what you wanted. And it would still kill me." I pull away, "You ok now?" I ask. She nods.

**Jack**

"What are you doing homework for?" I ask as I see Cassie sitting at the table, "It's Christmas break."

"Hey," Sam says giving me a quick peck on the lips, "Cassie, sweetie, why don't you go work on your art in your room?" Sam asks seriously.

Cassie's face crumples. Sam pulls her into a hug, "Stay sweetie, not going say anything you don't know." I'm worried by her tone.

"What's going on?" I ask nervously.

"I…told everyone at the slumber party I was an alien," Cassie blurts.

I glance at Sam.

"I'm pretty sure the parents are all calm now," she mutters.

"We're not going to be doing that again are we?" I ask Cassie.

She shakes her head, "Ok, no harm no fowl," I say with a shrug.

"Jack…I…I asked Cassie if she was happy here on earth. She misunderstood. She thought…I was," Sam looks positively pale, "sending her away."

I grab onto Cassie pulling her tight, "Oh no, no, no, you're stuck with us." I feel desperation in my fingers.

"I never meant…I do want her," Sam says joining the group hug.

"I know," I say running a finger through her hair. Between the two of us we have enough parental guilt to fill an ocean. "You're fine. Our family is fine. And our family, little girl," I say pulling Cassie away so I can look at her face, "Is for always."

Serendipity gurgles on the floor. I swoop down and pick her up. "Goes for you too, always."

**Jacob**

Chemotherapy sucks. Bad. I've never been so tired. I feel achy and like crap. I moved across the country so I could be close to my daughter and family, but I haven't gotten to spend that much time with them. I'm too sick to move let alone play with the grand kids.

Cassie doesn't play anymore. She told me that last time I saw her. It's not fair that we barely got to have Cassie when she was a child. She's grown up and I barely got to know her.

I'm hoping that Sam is going to do a rather low key Christmas. I'd rather just nap.

"Dad, hi!" Sam says giving me a hug at the door. She's always exuberant. I hate excitement when I'm trying not to vomit.

"How you feeling, Jake?" Jack asks more softly. He gets it. Did this whole thing with his mom. It's not Sam's fault she doesn't get it. Our relationship isn't exactly of the open and honest variety.

"Fine," I say.

He gives me the 'no one believes that crap' face.

"Grandpa!" a voice exclaims and that isn't a surprise. The origin of the voice is.

"Paul?" I say picking him up for a hug.

"Surprise," Sam says, but she does look worried. I'm trying to look pleased and not vomit and figure out how I'm going to tell my son who I've barely spoke to in five years that I'm dying. It's a lot of multi-tasking.

Christmas sucks.

"Why don't you go sit down," Sam says.

"Do you need help in the kitchen?" I ask.

"Go sit down, Dad," she says.

Damn.

"Hey, did you have a nice flight?" I ask Mark.

Lizzie crawls onto my lap.

"Are you ok, Jacob, you look sick?" Rebecca asks.

Jack gives me a disappointed face.

"I've been having a little health problem lately," I mutter.

"Jacob, will it be better if you lie now and tell the truth later?" Jack asks fixing a glare on me. I shake my head. "Frankly, I can't believe you haven't already told them. Made me lose a bet to my wife."

I fix my eyes on my son, "I've got leukemia," I mutter.

He looks as nauseous as I feel.

"How long have you known?" Mark asks.

"A couple of weeks."

"So right about the time you moved here to be closer to Sam?" he says. I've wounded him. He's spent the majority of his adult life running from me…but he didn't want me stop fighting for him to come back. Parents aren't supposed to let their kids leave, even when the kid wants to.

"It was also to be close to the Academy hospital," I offer.

"There is a base near us," he offers.

"An hour away," Jack mutters.

"Close enough," Mark mutters.

"Are you…going to be ok?" Rachel asks.

"Grandpa, sick?" Lizzie asks putting a hand up to my face.

I smooth her hair down, "It's going to be ok," I assure her.

"Jacob…" Jack warns.

I take a deep breath, "they haven't…seen the results they wanted with the chemo."

Mark looks away and I think I see some tears in his eyes.

"I…still have a lot of…It's not over yet," I murmur.

Jack gets a pained expression and leaves the room while the rest of them look comforted.

**Sam**

Jack comes into the kitchen where I am cooking Christmas dinner and starts slamming things around.

"Hey, what's going on?" I ask grabbing onto his arm.

"I know what Danny was talking about. About having to live through hell again," he rants breaking away from my grip and hurling the dish rag at the wall with all of his strength.

"What exactly are we talking about?" I ask starting a neck massage in an effort to calm him down.

"The whole other reality thing," he says waving his hands around.

"Ok, give me the other half of the metaphor now, honey."

He takes a deep breath, "I watched my mom die from cancer. I never thought….I don't want to do it again."

"Dad…he's…he's not going to…" I stammer but I know I sound like a four year old.

"Just…I shouldn't interfere. The whole denial grieving bullshit works for some people. But Jesus Sam, you've been with him at the appointments. I know you know more about biology than I do. Granted I know a lot about cancer but…"

"He's not going to…" I say again knowing all the while that I am just lying to myself. Lying to myself and someone who knows I am lying.

He turns and pulls me into a hug. The hands that were working a massage falling off him. "Of course, Sam. He'll pull through. He'll get a miracle. He'll be fine," he says rubbing my back.

"It's not fair," I mutter. He pulls back and looks at me and I figure I have to go on and finish my thought, even though I'm not quite sure what the thought is going to be. "He…he was a good man you know? I mean he was gone a lot when we were kids and he didn't always know what to do with us. I mean he wasn't actually by nature much of a kid person. But he was always there for us. When I went through that weird spider phase-and had them all over my room. He used to watch them with me and I'm pretty sure he was actually terrified of spiders. And after mom died…he did everything for us. I was so depressed I barely moved and Mark was so rebellious. It must have been hell for him. And he must have still been grieving. At the time I never thought of it, but…he lost his wife. But he was just there for us. Why does he have to be the one that dies? There are a whole lot of assholes in the world."

"There are," Jack says.

He doesn't try to give me a reason. Some religious platitude that neither of us believes or some meaningless psychobabble. He just tells me I'm right.

"Mom always told me 'anyone who told you life was fair was a liar,'" he says with a little laugh, "she added a damn in there when I turned sixteen. I actually found out a lot of my mom's sayings contained curse words about that same time."

I bite my lip. I know that most people would probably say this is just the next stage of grief. Three in one conversation, apparently I'm doing well. "Jack, if we could get a sarcophagus..."

He shakes his head, "How many lives is your father's worth, Sam?"

Shit, that ends that idea.

"Besides, it seems like the world would become a whole lot less fair under that system. If you happen to know someone who works for Stargate command you are granted eternal life. The rest of you poor schmucks can just suffer."

"Jack that isn't what…"

"I know. I'd do it in a minute for my mom. I want to do it for Jacob. I get it. But there is another part of me that knows it would never be right."

I slump against his body in something that is a little bit of a hug and mostly surrender. He hugs me in that unbelievably tight and comforting way that causes me to feel energized. Jack is a really good hugger.

"Need some help with dinner?" he asks a few minutes later.

"I've got it if you want to go talk," I offer.

"Your dad's pretty sick today," he mutters.

I nod. He came in here saying he didn't want to watch my dad die. I'll have to try to shield him from that. My dad needs someone, but he doesn't need Jack. Jack isn't his daughter. Jack doesn't need to see cancer claim another life.


	27. Birthdays

Just a note since people seem to have forgotten. The premise of this story is that nothing changed except Jack grabbed onto the Broca infected guy yelling at Teal'c. That's it. All other changes stemmed from that incident. I maintain that Jack and Sam would have adopted Cassie had they been in a stable relationship when that option came up.

**Jack**

I really hope she likes it. She said she didn't want to celebrate her birthday. Should I have just listened to her? Or maybe gone into this thing one step at a time? No, I had to go and be all excessive. Well, the worst thing that could happen is that she hates it.

She's coming back from a cleverly fanned "emergency" Janet called her to at the SGC.

"Surprise!"a decent cross-section of the SGC screams in unison.

"You planned a birthday party?" Sam says with only playful accusation in her voice. Good, she actually sounds like she likes this. Phew!

I nod.

"Spanish theme?" she asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Actually Sam, he planned 17 birthdays," Daniel says with a grin.

"Seventeen birthdays?" she asks.

"Yeah, well we're going to start with a quinceanera, because if you're going to turn fifteen you'd want to be Hispanic.

"There's a dress," Cassie says.

"Who picked it out?" she asks suspiciously with a raised eyebrow.

"That was all Cassie," I say. I know the dress that our daughter picked out isn't exactly Sam's style, but I figured she only has to wear it for an hour or so, so she can put up with anything.

She emerges wearing a white dress with a lot of lace.

"Toasts," I say with a grin.

"What?" Sam asks with a tone of horror in her voice.

"Oh, we're going as authentic as we can. We're skipping the church service because we have a lot of years to cover."

"To my mom!" Cassie says getting up on top of a chair, "She pushes me hard. Makes me do well. But she picks me up when I fall too. She's amazing! All the other girls are jealous, especially of the awesome way that she painted their toes at the sleepover."

"Hey, she isn't anyone's mom yet," Daniel points out, "she's only fifteen."

"Oh, logic police," I groan. "To my fiancé! The amazing Samantha Carter. Superhero extraordinaire," she giggles. "She saves the world and comes home in time to make a lasagna," now the rest of the room giggles, "She's the best mom to our two girls. She's a soldier, she's a warrior, she's a scientist. She's hotter than hell, and she's stupid enough to agree to marry me!"

Sam pulls me toward her, and we share what turns out to be a pretty heated kiss. When we come out of it Daniel says, "I'm pretty sure a real quinceanera wouldn't be allowed to do that."

"Come on, put the culture buff stuff away for one night, and toast the lady of the hour," I say.

"To Samantha Carter. A woman who fights Mongolian warlords. You brought a penknife to a machete fight that time didn't you?" He says to her. "She's a woman who stands up for what she believes in. Even if it gets her, or her esteemed teammates shot at," he says with a smile. "She's brilliant. Not just in her chosen field of astrophysics, in which for those of you who don't follow the field she is a leader, but in pretty much everything she attempts. When the engineers get stumped she jumps in and saves the day," I hear a murmur of decent from the corner of the room of engineers, "when the doctors can't figure it our she sticks her eye under the microspore and comes up with an answer in a matter of minutes."

Janet is fixing a glare on him. Does our anthropologist know that he's offending everyone in the room except for Sam, who is feeling awkward?

"She's one hell of a soldier as well. I happen to know that she wins every arm wrestling and shooting match an idiot marine is stupid enough to accept her challenge to. She can also beat you at drinking and pool boys, so don't fall for that one. I learned the last one by experience, so trust me."

"Aw, that don't mean nothing Danny," Ferretti shouts out, "lord knows you can't play pool to save your life. And a sip of beer has you passing out"

Daniel laughs, "None the less she is pretty much all around amazing. Recently we've got to see a new side of Sam. The womanly motherly side. It's nice," he smiles at her. "She's good at it too, even though she doesn't always believe it. As a foster child I got to see a lot of mom's up close and personal. You're one of the good ones Sam. Trust me on that." She smiles.

"So in conclusion, you are brilliant, talented, a great mom and fiancé to your lucky, lucky family, and Jack pointed out as beautiful to look at as a piece of fine art. So I have just one question Sam. How the hell to you make friends among the mere mortals without someone killing you out of jealousy?"

The room erupts in laughter. He won them all back after insulting them. Sam's cheeks are flaming red, and I get the feeling that she isn't soon going to forgive him for that stunt.

"I too wish to make a speech praising the positive attributes of Captain Carter. However, I will not finish my speech by drinking, as the Jaffa abstain from drinking. Captain Carter is a skilled warrior and possesses all the attributes necessary to be good at her chosen career. She is strong, skillful at using weapons, and has the instinct and senses one rarely sees in someone who is not endowed with a Gau'auld symbiot," Teal'c.

"Don't even talk like that, Teal'c" I protest, "Never again."

"It is a saying among the Jaffa, 'It is impossible to devote your life to your god and to your family.' Daniel Jackson has informed me you have a similar saying on this planet, 'You cannot serve both god and man.'"

Daniel gives him a nod.

"Samantha Carter, you defy the wisdom of two worlds."

The Jaffa made Sam cry! And if Jaffa cried I'm pretty sure he'd be joining her.

The toasts go on for a little longer before I give Daniel a nod. He heads over to the stereo.

"The toasts are done, now it's time for the traditional dance," I say.

She looks a little panicked. "Jacob said you could waltz," I say.

"That's a bit of an exaggeration," she whispers. "I used to dance on his feet."

"You can stand on my feet if you want," I offer.

She laughs. The tension is gone, and it turns out the girl can waltz.

**Sam**

I wasn't lying when I said I didn't every want to celebrate my birthday again. But Jack has made me change my mind.

"Now you get to turn sixteen," he says as the waltz ends. Daniel hits a button the stereo and suddenly 'What's love got to do with it' blasts out of the stereo.

"A selection of music from your sixteenth year," Jack offers with a grin.

"Dangerous to let a room full of people know how old I am," I warn.

"Just dance, Carter," he says. Jack may be able to waltz, but…he should stick to waltzing that is for sure.

The sixteenth part is much fast pasted than the fifteenth. Lots of dancing, and chips.

The seventeenth party is a slumber party. At ten in the morning. Most of the guests leave. We end up with just SG-1, Janet, and the family. We change into our pajamas, eat pizza, and watch a movie. Back to the Future, because he had to pick one from my seventeenth year.

Cassie loved it. I'm pretty sure she didn't get any of it, because her background knowledge about earth is still almost non-existent. So she doesn't know anything about the 50's or 80's for that matter, and they didn't have much sci fi where she is from. But she loved it.

Jack got pretty annoyed with my comments on the realisticness of the movie.

"It's a movie!" He shouts in frustration the eighth time he had to pause it.

"Flux compositors? Seriously?" I mutter.

"Movie," he repeats.

"But it doesn't make any sense! What does the flux compositor do?"

He stares at me in disbelief, "It makes you travel through time."

Cassie starts laughing.

"Has she even been watching the movie?" he asks Cassie.

**Jack**

** "**So what's in store for eighteen?" she asks.

"Well, we have some voting to do."

"Voting?" I ask suspiciously.

Daniel puffs himself up, "It's the ballot to end all ballots," he says with a grin.

"Can I vote?" Cassie asks. Dipity is taking a nap on her father's lap.

"No, you have to be eighteen," Daniel says.

"I don't think this ballot is completely PG, honey. We'll call you when it's time for nineteen."

She claps her hands in delight.

"What?" I ask. He hands me a piece of paper.

"System Lord of the year?" I ask in disbelief.

"One of many categories," he returns with a grin.

"Sexist member of SG-1," I say reading partway down the paper.

"That one better be easy," Jack teases.

"You sir, are no longer in the running for that one," I point out.

"And we all get a vote," Daniel says.

"Crap, that makes me tie breaker," Janet says.

"Your reasoning that we will all vote for ourselves may well be flawed Janet Fraiser," Teal'c says with one raised eyebrow.

"The US president you would most want to help you in a survival situation?"

"Daniel, you listed every president on the ballet," Sam says in awe.

"Has not your country been around for only a few hundred years?" Teal'c asks looking at the list of names in dismay.

"Yep, rapid turnover in leaders is one of the things that keeps us from being like Goau'ld," Jack explains.

Teal'c raises his eye.

"Which superhero would be most useful on missions?" I read aloud with a giggle. "This is going to be fun."

"The correct answer is Jack O'Neill," Jack informs me.

"Pretty sure you don't actually qualify as a superhero Jack."

"Oh, but I do…did I ever tell you about the time I was bitten by a radioactive platypus?"

"A platypus, Jack?" Daniel says.

"What is s platypus?" Teal'c asks.

"Ah…it's an animal, kind of like a bird, but kind of like a mammal. It lives in the water, and had this wacky tail…" Jack explains.

"It's pretty much the strangest creature known to man," I put in.

"That is fitting O'Neill," Teal'c says.

**Cassie**

"Hey, get out here, you mom is turning nineteen," Dad calls.

I run out into the room so fast that I crash right into mom. "Hey! I came up with nineteen."

"Show me honey," He says.

I had her a slip of paper. A grin crosses her face as she opens it. "Treasure hunt?" she asks.

"I suggested to young Cassandra that she translate the clues into Goa'uld to make it more challenging."

"It's not supposed to be challenging, it's supposed to be fun," Dad scolds.

**Cassie-later**

After I saw how good mom actually was at the treasure hunt I started to wish that I'd taken Teal'c's advice. She breezed through it in no time at all.

"Dangers of living with a genius," Dad explained.

Birthday number twenty involves ice skating Dad's the only one who has ever done it before. It's pretty hilarious. I mean to see people who regularly save the world keep failing on their butts.

"I do not believe that this is a very efficient means of transportation," Teal'c informs Dad gravely.

"Sure they are," Dad declares taking a boosty trip around his teammates. Daniel grabs onto mom's forearm, and they boast themselves up. Teal'c gets himself off the ice using nothing but his powerful leg muscles. No sooner are they on their feet again, but they fall onto the ice.

I'm pretty sure that was Dad's plan all along. This idea is reinforced by the volume at which he is laughing.

"Come on, it's the best sport!" he declares.

"Cassie, you're picking up on this, got any tips for your mother?" I ask.

"You overcorrect," I offer with a shrug.

"Oh, the tecnobabble, out a mouth so young," Dad says putting his hands over his ears.

"Oh, that's not even the start of her tecnobabble, just imagine what she will be like after she's taken some college physics, and I can explain to her exactly how a wormhole works," mom offers with a huge grin.

"Don't let them corrupt you," Dad cautions me, "it only takes a few hours of the Simpsons to erase any troublesome thoughts of wormhole physics from your mind."

"Or flex compositors," Daniel offers.

**Sam**

I know that Jack spent a lot of time planning this, but at this point I'm exhausted. I wonder if there is a polite way to tell him that I want to go home? I wonder if it would ruin all the things that he had planned for us to do.

Janet stayed with Serendipity when the rest of us were skating. After we were done the boys took Cassie home to join them. Then Jack and I went out to get a "first drink" for my twenty-first birthday. We actually played a drinking game over the darks. Which was a little bit weird considering it was only about four in the afternoon.

My twenty-second birthday involved a movie. The twenty-third a game of minute golf. The twenty-fourth birthday involved a dinner. The twenty-fifth involved the best dessert I've ever had. The twenty-sixth seems to be a ways away. Out of town for sure. I'm hoping we're not going to go to Denver. I don't think I could take two one hour drives and four more birthday's tonight. It is getting late.

"Jack how much further is the next destination?" I ask.

"A ways," he says cryptically.

"Jack, this has been wonderful," I say.

"But…" he prompts.

"But I'm getting tired."

"Well, we're not going to finish off the birthdays tonight," he says.

"We're not?" I ask in surprise.

"Nope. I'm going to go ahead and ruin the surprise now."

"Please go ahead."

"Ok, so we're going to Denver. For a romantic weekend away. This is birthday twenty-six, the other four will happen tomorrow. We'll head back day after tomorrow in the morning."

I'm silent for a little bit, he looks at me with concern.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

"I…I have been…I've never had a weekend away with a man before," I admit.

"What? We've had weekends before," he protests.

"Not without your dad, or my dad, or the kids."

"Geez, I'm a bad fiancé," he mutters.

"It's as much my fault as it is yours Jack. And you're the one who finally made it happened. Besides, I was engaged to Jonas for almost a year, and we never had a weekend away."

"There is a lot of things that you missed."

"Well, you made up for a lot of them today," I say giving him a kiss. I pause, because I'm really not sure that he knows. "Jack…you skipped fourteen."

"Did you want me to do it?" he asks with concern. "I just thought…"

"No," I whisper, "I was so glad you skipped it. I just…I don't know how you know me so well."

"You're easy to know. You actually make everything easy."

"This is by far the best birthday ever," he says.

"Wait until tomorrow."

**Jack**

I'm pretty sure Sam thought the morning was a disappointment. Twenty-seven was room service compete with cake and ice cream. Twenty-eight was a waterslide in the hotel. Twenty-nine involved an early lunch. But these were all a prequel to number thirty.

We pull up to a small private Air Port.

"What are we doing?" she asks.

"Sam," I say turning to her, "How bad do you miss flying? A few g's pulling on you. A fast powerful machine reacting to every twitch of your thumb."

"You were never a pilot," she says dismissively.

"Of course not, I'm sane. Doesn't mean I don't get the pilot thrill. Come on."

"I get to fly?" she asks.

"Yeah, it's not as awesome as the stuff you flew over the gulf. But it's…available," I offer with a shrug.

"Jack O'Neill, if I hadn't already agreed to marry you this would put me over the edge," she says giving him a kiss.


	28. Tok'ra

Note on the last chapter: My bad people, apparently Jack O'Neill not only jumped out of planes but flew them. Missed a Stargate Atlantis reference. But in my defense, his uniform doesn't have the pilot wings, and being a pilot doesn't make sense with his back story. You have to be an officer in order to be a pilot, and Jack has the insignia of a Mustang, someone who was first enlisted. So, my mistake is based at least a little on inconsistencies in Stargate. Like how Jolinar switched genders, or how Teal'c had never heard of a two Goa'uld having a kid, until a year later when he knew all about the Harstaicus child.

And I still think Jack does not have the personality required of a pilot. Maybe he did before Charlie died.

And now for a very, very, very long chapter.

**Sam**

This isn't the first time that we have tried to get something out of my mind after Jolinar. I figured it was a lost cause from the beginning. After all, this creature and I only shared a brain for a short period of time and it wasn't as if we were exactly chatty the whole time.

If I'm being honest it was my fault at least as much as it was his.

But this time I find myself in a shockingly realistic memory. I see a tunnel, unlike anything I've ever seen before. That is part of what makes it so striking. If this were a dream I'd just be combining things I already knew. This is wholly new. The walls of the tunnel have a honeycomb pattern that could either be metal or crystal or an odd combination thereof.

I'm not exactly admiring the décor however. I and everyone else I can see, seem to be being shot at with energy weapons. The people are an odd mix. Some are wearing very simple garments-sand colored cloaks. Others are wearing elaborate clothing that I guess is Roman inspired. Daniel would know for sure.

Suddenly a man comes into view and I have the feeling that I recognize him. That I know him well. But you get that feeling in dreams sometimes when you feel like you know someone that you really don't. There is another feeling besides familiarity and relief which fills me as I see him. Another feeling, which should cause an engaged woman guilt. But I don't feel guilty, because right then, I don't remember Jack. Dreams are like that.

The man is dressed in the most reasonable clothing I've seen so far. It is a drab gray color. It's form fitting, so it wouldn't get in the way if you got into a fight. And that vest looks like it would provide some protection against an attack. I don't think it's going to stop a staff weapon blast though.

"We have to activate the Chappa'ai. Quickly, Jolinar!" he says.

I run behind him through the temple to a room with white flowing curtains. I move to the DHD and begin to dial. For most of this experience I've been a little fuzzy on whether this is a dream or not, but right now I'm sure enough that I concentrate on memorizing the glyphs.

Halfway through, a staff weapon engages close to my body. I repeat the glyphs in my head as I turn to see. Then I turn back and finish them. Divided in half-like a phone number. Much easier to memorize that way.

The stargate engages and I head toward it amidst the firefight. "Jolinar, hurry!" the man shouts.

Suddenly I catch my reflection in a shiny crystal. It's actually me, which wasn't at all what I was expecting, even though I've been using the personal pronoun. Somehow I fully expected my face to be someone else's.

My eyes open wide and I bolt upward in surprise. I'm in the infirmary again and General Hammond is looking at me with concern.

"I think I might have found something!" I tell him.

**Jack**

My fiancé has someone else's memories inside her. That bothers me on some level and I don't even know why.

"You don't think it was just a dream?" I ask as I pour myself a cup of coffee in preparation for what I can already tell is going to be one long briefing.

"No, Sir. It was real. I could tell," Sam says in her stubborn, annoyed voice.

"You could tell?" Hammond prompts.

"Yes, Sir. I don't know how, exactly, but I could tell," she tells him.

"So we're supposed into buy this…ESP, or whatever it is?" I ask cynically

"O'Neill, when a Goa'uld infests its host, their minds intermingle, become as one. It is possible that portions of Jolinar of Malk-shur remain in Captain Carter's mind," Teal'c explains.

"These Tok'ra were on the run. They may be in trouble. Now, if we want to find them again, we should find them before they move on. They may still be at these coordinates," she's almost too desperate to go there. It's making me nervous.

"Now, you said their eyes glowed. Are you really sure that these Tok'ra are what Jolinar said they were? I mean, good guys, for…lack of a better word?" Daniel asks.

"Yes," she says in that a-little-bit-too-sure voice.

"Yes? Just yes? Could you elaborate a little?" I prompt.

"I'm sorry Colonel. I know it's hard to understand. I don't really understand it myself, but I am sure. I…I just know," she offers with a shrug.

"According to Jaffa legend, the Tok'ra are the Goa'uld resistance. Their stated goal is the destruction of the System Lords and a change in the ways of the empire. They are hunted and despised by the Goa'uld," Teal'c offers.

"Yes! My kinda guys!" I say with enthusiasm.

"General Hammond, if I may. My vision is the only lead we have to go on. Shouldn't we at least check it out before they move on?" she asks in a way that comes off as her giving an order to the General.

"I'm sending SG-1 through to the coordinates Captain Carter saw in her vision."

Sam gives him a big happy victory smile.

**Sam**

We're five minutes away from leaving to go on a mission to the place that may or may not be the Tok'ra home world. I slip into a quiet corner of the control room and pick up the phone.

"Dad, hi, it's me, Sam," my lips flick into a grim grin when I hear his denialist question,"  
What do you mean, why am I calling? Dad? You just told me that you have cancer, you can't…" I close my eyes realizing that right now I do not want to start an argument that I am not going to win, "All right, okay, never mind. Listen, uh, I'm about to go on a little trip. Yes, it's for the Air Force. It's…it's not important where I'm going Dad. What's important is that I may be gone a while and I just wanted to call and see how you're doing."

He tells me he's fine. He always tells me he's fine. He tells me that until the words have no meaning. "You're sure?" I ask. Dad's already hung up the phone. I stare at it for a moment before I get up to leave.

Hammond catches me just before I head back down to my team, "Your father?" his voice asks.

"Yes, Sir," I say turning toward him.

"How is Jacob?" he asks with concern.

"He claims he's okay, not that he'd tell me if he weren't." Hammond looks disappointed.

"I feel like when I leave on this mission I might be leaving something behind. Like I might miss something important," I mutter.

"Understandable. I'll put a temporary replacement on SG-1. You can stay here," he says.

"I wish I could, Sir, but I don't think I'm replaceable on this one. The memories Jolinar left in my mind could be invaluable on this mission and no one else has them," I say with a sad sigh.

"True, but your father…" Hammond prompts.

"Sir, it's okay, he doesn't want me around anyway." I say dismissively.

General Hammond speaks slowly and deliberately, "Sam, I've known Jacob a long time. That's not true."

I look away for a second gather my thoughts, "Sir, he's always too concerned about appearing the strong soldier. The last thing he would want is for me to see him in a hospital bed losing a battle," I say clipping my words, "I should get going Sir, I don't wanna hold things up," I say marching out of the room.

"Captain!" he barks in a way that you can't help but obey.

I turn to look at him, "You're more like your father than you'd like to admit." I don't know if that is supposed to be an insult or a compliment.

**Teal'c**

Captain Carter is distracted by her father's impending death. On Chulak we would not have to worry about things like that. His symbiote would heal him. I have considered offering Captain Carter and her father a trip to Chulak. There we could endeavor to secure a priest to do a prim'ta. It would probably be unsuccessful however. Jacob Carter would not easily pass for a Jaffa.

We arrive on a planet that looks barren, "There is no evidence of footprints or tracks of any kind. If the Tok'ra were here they have not been near the Gate in many days," I offer.

"Which way do we go?" Major Ferretti asks.

"There's some sort of dunes over there," Captain Carter offers.

"Dunes it is," Major Ferretti says.

"No one's tread here in a while," Daniel Jackson offers although his tracking skills are considerably inferior to mine.

"The Tok'ra are known for their ability to mask their trails. They are, as you say, stealthy in their actions," I offer. Without warning multiple warriors arise from sand dunes and engage their staff weapons.

"Yeah, stealthy would be a good word, Teal'c," Daniel says with a touch of sarcasm.

"Good guys or bad guys?" Major Ferretti asks of me.

One of the men who points weapons at us responds, "We mean you no harm. But I warn you, if you make any aggressive moves, we will fire upon you."

"Same here," Major Ferretti proclaims with a threat in his voice.

The man who I think must be a Tok'ra laughs, "Well, I think we have the advantage. There are more of us."

"This is true," Major Ferretti says after a careful look around.

"This one is a Jaffa. Apophis sect," one of them says with an angry head tilted toward me.

"I am no longer in the service of Apophis." I inform him.

"Who then are you in service to?" he asks in a way which implies he thinks of me as an inferior being.

"I am allied with these, the Tau'ri, in battle against Apophis," I proclaim.

"And all other Goa'uld," Daniel Jackson warns.

"Be careful, Daniel," Captain Carter cautions.

"Why?" he asks.

"Because they are Goa'uld," she tells him.

"Do not call us that!" one of them says becoming angry and allowing his eye to glow, "We are not Goa'uld!"

**Sam**

The standoff between the Tok'ra and us has lasted long enough that I'm actually beginning to become bored. Suddenly I realize that I recognize one of them. "Martouf."

"I do not know this woman," he says to the others around him as Cassie might if one of her friends accused her of talking to the "social outcasts."

"But I'm right, aren't I. That's your name, Martouf," I repeat.

"It is. How do you know me?" he replies cautiously.

"I don't. But I knew someone who did. His name was Jolinar of Malk-shur," a look of intense surprise and concern crosses his face. He glances at the other one who does the speaking. I'm guessing this guy is a leader. I think this is based on military instinct, but for all I know it could be a latent Jolinar memory.

"Where is Jolinar?" leader guys asks taking a few steps toward me.

"He died saving my life," I say.

"That's why we're here, to seek out the Tok'ra," Daniel offers.

"Assuming, of course, you are the Tok'ra," Ferretti says.

"And if we're not?" leader guy challenges.

"Well, I guess we all start shooting," Ferretti says.

"And if we are this thing you call Tok'ra?" Martouf asks.

"If you are indeed the Tok'ra of Jaffa legend, we should form an alliance," Teal'c says.

"I learned a lot from Jolinar. Enough to know that we could be good friends. And frankly, enough to know that you are the Tok'ra," I say.

"I believe this one speaks the truth," he says looking at me with a look that makes me squirm a little bit inside, "Perhaps we should…just listen to what they have to say," Martouf says. The leader raises his hand and they lower their weapons.

"Well that's better, isn't it? So, take me to your leader," Ferretti says pointing his weapon toward the ground.

"I will take you to whom you seek. But there is one condition. You must leave your weapons with us," the leaders says.

"Not happening Ferretti says."

"They won't hurt us, Major," I assure him.

"They're Goa'ulds, Carter," Ferretti reminds me as if I might have forgotten. I had one inside of me, I'm not likely to forget.

"They won't hurt us," I repeat, "I can remember."

"Ferretti, if they are the Tok'ra, we are in no danger," Teal'c states.

"If you're asking for opinions, I vote we take the chance," Daniel says. He usually doesn't wait for someone to be taking opinions before he offers one.

"Okay. But I want it understood that we're doing this in the spirit of future relations. I expect us to be treated as such," Ferretti says reluctantly giving up his weapon.

"Please, come closer together," Martouf prompts.

"Why?" Ferretti asks suspiciously.

"It's okay, Major," I assure him. Suddenly rings shoot up and the next thing I know we are in familiar/strange metal/crystal tunnels.

"This looks just like the place in my dream. But that was on the planet that we…they…were fleeing," I offer. When dealing with someone else's memories it's pretty hard to figure out what person to speak in.

"It is said throughout the legend of the Tok'ra, when they arrive on a planet they go deep underground, it is said they possess the technology to actually grow tunnels," Teal'c says.

"This looks like some sort of crystal material, so theoretically it could be grown," I offer. Up close and personal they do look much more like crystal than metal.

"Apophis had me searching for tunnels such as these for many years. We never found them. It is believed when the Tok'ra move on, the tunnels are destroyed," Teal'c says.

"Carter, what's the story with this Martouf?" Ferretti asks and I can tell there is a little undertone of making sure that his friend's fiancé doesn't run into trouble in the question.

"I'm not sure. I get the feeling I know almost all of these people, but my memories of Martouf are the strongest. It's like I have some weird bond with him," I offer hoping he'll let me leave it at that and thankfully, he does. I hope he doesn't have a reason to worry. I mean…it's not like I'm going to betray Jack. No way. But I'd rather there wasn't some strange psychological alien relationship thing going on.

**Jack**

Damn. The call comes when Sam's on a mission. A mission she's not that likely to be recalled from too. She's the only one that has that snake's brain inside of hers. Her Dad's dying and she's not here.

And I have to go. I really didn't want to be there for another death. I know that sounds callus and crappy. People are always saying that they wished they'd been there when someone died. But really it sucks.

It hurts up in your chest. And it's stressful. And you feel like you should be doing something, trying to save them. No matter how far gone they are or how little chance there is of them making it out of there alive. And it's hard for them and it's hard for you and it just sucks.

Sam and I talked about it and I wasn't going to be there for Jacob's end. But lo and behold it comes when she can't be there and I'll be damned if I'm going to let the man die alone.

I look through the door and take stock of the situation for a second before he sees me. You can tell it's near the end, because the room is peaceful. It got like that with my mom the last couple weeks when hospice took over. It was like that with Charlie right after we brought him in. Nobody was rushing around in that case.

"Jack," he says surprised when I come to stand by him.

"Jacob. Are you all right?" I ask.

He pulls himself up in bed a bit, "I've been better," he admitted.

"What happened?" I ask.

"They cleaned out all the lymph nodes. The problem is, apparently, one squadron of those little buggers got themselves reassigned to my liver," he says leaning back against the pillow.

"I'm going to call Hammond and try to get Sam home," I say.

He reaches for my hand. He can't reach the one on the phone, but it stops me none the less, "No, there's no need."

"Jacob, she should be here," I say.

"Why? Let me tell you something Jack, my little girl grew up seeing Daddy go off to God knows where to fight God knows who and I always came home alive and well. Now, I'm going to let her sit here and watch me lose a war? To some little runts so small I can't even see 'em? You shouldn't even have to be here," I say.

That's Jacob through and through. "I know you do the whole tough guy thing with Sam, but you don't have to do it with me. You don't have to do it with her either. She wants to be here you know."

"I got a feeling she's on a pretty important mission right now. Am I right?" he asks.

"Well, yes, but there are others…" I say. It's sort of a lie. But it's a lie I'm not going to feel guilty about telling.

"Leave her there," he commands.

"Jacob…" I start.

"And if you insist on sticking around there is something you could do for me, Jack," he says.

"What?"

"Tell me what the two of you do for a living."

"It's classified," I say.

"Come on Jack, they're telling me I don't have much time left. Who am I going to tell? God?" He asks.

"I'm sorry," I say. And he looks more disappointed than I have ever seen him look.

"How is Cassie?" he asks by way of distraction and I allow him to change the subject for a time.

He dozes off in the middle of a conversation and I just let him sleep. Goodness knows he could use it. Although it's kind of sad how much of their final days they spend in sleep. Only so many hours left in existence and to spend a second of it with your eyes closed is a tragedy.

Suddenly the heart monitor starts making a sound that I know isn't good. My mom's death was slower, lungs giving out. But she lost two roommates to the problem that Jacob is having right now.

"Doctor!" I scream running toward the hall to call someone. But a whole team of doctors and nurses were already drawn by the sound of his machine going off.

They have to use the paddles on him. I feel like curling up into a ball, but I know I won't get any information that way and I'll probably be asked to leave. You have to be strong in hospitals. Doctors are strangely unnerved by grieving.

"Doctor?" I ask as he leaves the room.

"He's…uh…stable, for now," he says. Well, I can see that or you wouldn't all be leaving, I think to myself.

"How long does he have?" I ask.

"Can't say with a cancer like this... Could be five days or five minutes. Sorry. If there is any more family, I recommend you get them here ASAP," he says making a grim face before he walks out of the room.

**Daniel**

"So am I to understand you did not invite Jolinar to use you as a host?" Garshaw asks as Sam finishes up her story.

"That is correct. He did it in an emergency situation to escape an assassin," Sam explains. She sounds like she's defending Jolinar which seems really out of character for her.

"Then if you were not a voluntary host, how do we know that you did not kill Jolinar yourself?" Cordesh asks.

"Um, well, because I…I didn't. I mean, I guess you're just going to have to trust us on that," Sam stammers.

"And why should we trust you?" Cordesh asks.

"Why should be trust you?" Ferretti breaks in, "You are after all the ones treating us like prisoners. Are you Goa'ulds?"

"You are not prisoners and I have told you we are not Goa'uld," Garshaw says offended.

"Why do you talk like that? And what's with the glowing eyes? Huh? Might it have something to do with a little worm in your heads?" Ferretti asks.

"We have symbiotic creatures within us, yes," Garshaw says coolly.

"Well then!" Ferretti says with a flare of his arms.

"Well then, you can see how we might think you would be a danger to humans. You take humans as hosts," I say trying to calm down the situation.

"Goa'uld take hosts. Tok'ra do not. Ours wish to be so," Garshaw says, offended.

"We have a truly symbiotic relationship," Martouf offers.

"No offence, but why would any human volunteer to be a host for a Goa'uld?" I say as diplomatically as possible, but there is no diplomatic way to ask that question.

Garshaw bends her head down and lifts her face up. Her body language and voice are completely different. I hate that I'm that cynical.

"Um…Perhaps I can…I can help you? I am Yosuf. I am Garshaw's host. I speak freely without restraint or censor. All of us who serve as hosts volunteer to do so freely," she says.

"Okay, well, maybe you can answer my question then. Why would any human volunteer for…for that?" I ask. I'm trying really hard not to think of Sha're right now. But I can't help but think of her every time I hear the gut wrenching "host".

"Well, with the blending I gain all of Garshaw's knowledge, her wisdom is more than any human could ever attain. And my lifespan is twice what it would be without the blending. And for all this, all I have to do is…share my physical body."

"What a trade off," Ferretti mutters.

"So this…symbiotic relationship is what makes the Tok'ra different from the Goa'uld," I clarify.

"Yes," Yosuf says.

"It is also this that has thwarted the Tok'ra's efforts against the Goa'uld," Teal'c says. I look at Teal'c in surprise.

"Your Jaffa friend is correct. If you'd like to come with me, I will show you what he means," she explains.

We follow her through the hall with a rather sizable guard at our tail. We enter a room that holds a sick old woman. She's attended by some woman in flowing clothes. From what I've been able to figure out about their culture the sand colored is for warriors, the Greek for servants and the slutty clothing for leaders. Strange culture this.

"Allow me to introduce Selmak," Yosuf says.

"Her host's name is Saroosh. She is one of the oldest and wisest among us, an important leader for our cause. However, she is unfortunately very ill and will soon die" Martouf sys.

I glance at Sam with worry. This has to be bringing up what's happening with her Dad right now, which has to be really hard for her.

"How old is she?" I ask.

"She will be 203 of your years in a few of your days," Yosuf says. Well that is certainly a good long life, but it's a drop in the bucket for a Goa'uld.

"I'm sorry. I was under the impression that Goa'uld lived much longer than 200 years," I say searching their faces.

"Goa'uld do, the Tok'ra don't," Yosuf offers. Her accent, body language, everything is different from the symbiote which inhabits her body. It must be real. Right?

"That's because you don't use the sarcophagus, right?" Sam asks.

"That's correct. We believe to do so would drain the good from our hearts," Martouf says.

"I can vouch for that," I mutter with memories of Shyla and the time I got so addicted to the sarcophagus that I betrayed my friends.

"That's why our numbers don't grow large enough to defeat the massive forces aligned with the System Lords," Martouf offers.

"Zero or negative population growth. Since you won't take new hosts by force, most of the time the Goa'uld dies with the host," Sam explains.

"And this is what is about to happen to Selmak," Yosuf says.

"Unless one of you wishes to volunteer to serve as a host," Martouf says looking all of us in the eye. Oh, this is the very definition of an awkward moment.

"I'm going to pass on that," Ferretti says.

"Yes, although it does s…sound very fascinating, I think it's a little too long term for me," I offer.

Martouf focuses on Sam. "I'm sorry, I've already been through that." Sam walks out of the room. We follow her into another hall. She's splashing her face in a water basin. Martouf walks beside her and touches her shoulder. She gasps like she's surprised.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," he mutters.

"You shouldn't sneak up on a person like that," Sam says.

"We didn't mean to upset you with the suggestion of becoming a host," Yosuf says.

"Well, as long as you take no for an answer," Ferretti says nervously.

"Be assured that we have never forced a human to become a host. It goes against all that we believe in," Martouf offers.

"Yeah, well, you know Captain Carter didn't exactly invite Jolinar in," Ferretti says.

"Yes Sir, but I believe he was sincere about wanting to leave me as soon as he found another host," Sam defends.

"If he found one," Ferretti mutters.

"I'm curious, if you're not interested in becoming a host, then why did you seek us out?" Yosuf asks.

"To form an alliance," I repeat. Their memories are not very good.

"Yes, so you've said, but it's apparent that the thought of an alliance disgusts you," Yosuf says making it clear that she's disgusted by out disgust.

"Wait a minute; you think by 'form an alliance' we mean we want to be hosts?" I ask.

"Well what other sort of an alliance could a non-blended human and a Tok'ra want to have?" Yosuf says in shock, as if I'm saying the sky is green…but that's not a very good analogy anymore. I've been to worlds where the sky is indeed green.

"Well, we do have a common enemy, how about a friendship?" Ferretti says.

"We could share information," Sam explains. It's probably a good idea to explain this step by step based on how misunderstood we were last time around.

"We can engage in battles, side by side," Teal'c offers.

"I do not believe you could be of any service to us. You are neither strong enough, nor advanced enough," Garshaw says after a head nod which allows her to switch over into her Goa'uld voice."

"You are incorrect. It was these who destroyed two Goa'uld motherships," Teal'c says.

Garshaw takes an angry step forward, "That was you? We had operatives who died on board those vessels."

"Oh boy," I mutter.

"We…we were only defending our planet," Sam says.

"We didn't know that they had travelled to the Tau'ri. This information, it explains a lot. At least now we know how and why our operatives died and for that we are truly grateful," Yosuf says. She is by far the calmer of the two.

"So maybe we can be of service," Ferretti says.

"Perhaps you are correct. I will try to convince the Council of Tok'ra to meet with you," Yosuf says as she leaves. Two guards (in the desert colored clothing) block the exit.

"Ah, excuse me?" Ferretti asks, "Are we prisoners here?"

"Well, until we decide what level of information to entrust to you, um, we cannot allow you to roam this facility freely. I'm sorry." Yosuf says with the guards still between her and us. Then she leaves.

Sam looks worried. I wonder if her father is still on her mind, "Would you like to take a walk on the surface?" Martouf asks.

"Why?" Carter asks.

"I would like to hear more of Jolinar of Malk-shur," he says.

"Okay," Sam says. My big brother (even though Sam's actually older) protective (even though she could defend herself better than I could ever protect her) instincts are in high gear.

"Ok," I say.

"I was only inviting Captain Carter. What we have to discuss is private. I hope you understand," Martouf says clipping his words.

"Actually, no, I don't," I say looking at Sam and begging her to tell this guy no. I mean I trust Sam…but still.

"Daniel, I think I should go with him. I think I need to go with him. There's a lot of questions he could answer about Jolinar," Sam says.

"I assure you Sir, she will be very safe with me," Martouf says.

I give a nod. It's Sam's life and I'm not going to pretend I have the authority to tell her what to do.

**Sam**

Martouf takes me up the surface of the planet and it looks every bit as empty as it did when we first arrived.

"Please, ah, tell me of Jolinar," he asks.

"I get the feeling you knew him way better than I ever did," I offer.

Martouf laughs, "Of that I am sure. For one thing, he was a she."

"What? You're kidding!" I say in shock.

"Well, actually, that isn't accurate. The symbiote does not have a gender. However, Jolinar has always been in female hosts."

"Well, actually, the host I found him in, her in, was a male."

He seems a little disturbed by this. I guess that makes sense. It would be disconcerting if your friend switched genders on you, "Really? Must have been another method of hiding from the Ashrak. Tell me of Jolinar's last days."

I'm actually pretty sick of trying to explain this to people. I know I'm not doing a very good job of it, because no one has yet to understand. I don't know, maybe Martouf does, because he has a symbiote in his brain. Not a dead symbiote though and I think that is probably another thing all together, "Well, it's kind of weird, it's like I'm left with these intuitions, feelings. I know this; she sacrificed herself to save me. That speaks a ton about her character as far as I'm concerned," I stop, because he's a couple of steps behind me. I turn to him, "I'm sorry, are you okay?"

He bows his head, low and slow and comes up with a flash of the eyes, "I'm sorry, Martouf is having a more difficult time handling this than I am," he says in the echoing Goa'uld voice.

"So you're his symbiote, Lantash, right?" I ask.

"Yes. Martouf is the name of my host."

"Yeah, I knew that." I say excitedly. "I seem to know pretty much everything about you. When I'm with you," I say with a laugh," I feel a different sort of, I don't know, recognition, than I do with the other Tok'ra. Is there something different about your relationship to Jolinar?"

"Jolinar and I were together for nearly…100 of your years. She was my mate."

Oh, crap. "Oh. Ho…How does that work? She was whose mate? Martouf or Lantash?"

"Both." He ducks his head and becomes Martouf with a smile instead of the foul mood he was in when Lantash took over, "Now let me attempt an explanation. As I said before, ours is a truly symbiotic relationship. So what I feel, Lantash feels. And what Lantash feels, I feel."

"So when one of you is in love, you both feel it."

"Yes, we love as one. And, and we mourn as one."

"I'm sorry," I offer.

"Don't be sorry. We want you to truly comprehend this so that you'll better understand us."

"Okay, well, I am curious. What...what was Jolinar's host like?"

A smile crosses his face for the first time since we started walking, "Jolinar's host, Rosha, was very beautiful. She had eyes like the oceans of Marloon, hair was the color of the sand of Abydos and her smile was, was as infectious as laughter. In fact, Rosha looked very much like you Captain Carter. You are very beautiful. You'd make a lovely new host for Selmak."

Oh, god, why didn't I stop him before he turned all those nice things about his girlfriend into nice things about me? I should have told him about Jack the second he told me that he and Jolinar were involved.

"I'm sorry, I…I've said something to offend you," he offers.

"No, Yes! It's just…I have someone back on earth. We're getting married actually. We've got kids…I just…"

"I'm sorry it was an inappropriate suggestion. Please understand that it came from the honest, deep desire to have Jolinar back in my life in some form. I understand that that can never happen. You already have a mate."

I do, but I do have some feelings left in my brain. They aren't my feelings. I'm not cheating on Jack. But…the feelings are there every time I look at him and…

"I think we should probably go back now."

**Sam-Later**

Daniel's been looking at me with concern ever since Martouf and I got back. He probably thinks the worst of me. Hell, he'll probably tell Jack I cheated on him when I get back to earth. And he wouldn't be completely wrong. I never should have gone with Martouf in the first place.

Colonel Makepeace enters the room behind angry Tok'ra.

"Colonel Makepeace? What are you doing here?" Ferretti asks.

"General Hammond sent us to extract Captain Carter," he explains.

My stomach sinks, "Why?" I ask.

"I'm afraid it's your father, Captain. He's in the hospital in serious condition," Makepeace says.

"You have to let her go home," Daniel says to Garshaw.

"I'm sorry, I cannot do that," Garshaw says.

"Why not?" Ferretti asks.

"I'm afraid we have made our decision. We have decided not to accept your request for an alliance," Garshaw says coolly. "Therefore you shall be our guests until such time as we decide to move to another planet."

"What?" Ferretti asks in shock, walking around so he's in her face.

"I'm sure you understand with your knowledge of this planet, you have become a security risk. We cannot allow you to leave until we have moved somewhere else that you do not know about," she explains.

I shake my head, "Well surely as Tok'ra you're more compassionate than that? Captain Carter's father is dying, I mean at least let her go." They have to let her go. Her dad's dying. I know what that's like. Hell Sam knows what it's like to lose a parent. She shouldn't have to go through that again…yet.

"She is the highest risk of all. She contains the memory of Jolinar of Malk-shur," Garshaw explains.

"We are not the only ones who have knowledge of this planet. Those we left behind of the Tau'ri also possess this knowledge," Teal'c informs him.

"As evidenced by our friends here," Ferretti says pointing to SG-3

"It is our wish that your lack of return will convince them that we are Goa'uld and not Tok'ra," she states.

"You want them to think that we're dead," Daniel says in shock. I'm not going home. My dad is going to die and I'm not going to be able to be there for him. Jack is going to have to do it. So much for sparing him.

Daniel and Ferretti finally get to talk to Garshaw about why we were denied an alliance. Why we aren't be allowed to leave. Turns out it is because none of us are willing to let them put a Goa'uld in our heads. So it isn't something that is likely to change.

"Colonel Makepeace? Did anyone tell you how far along my father is?" I ask nervously.

"No, I was only told to get you back as soon as possible," he mutters looking apologetic.

"He doesn't even know why I'm not there for him. He thinks I'm off somewhere working on some damn satellite dish or something," I rant angrily

"We're going to get you back there, Carter," Ferretti assures me.

"It would be impossible. There is only one way out, via the rings. We would then have to elude hundreds of Tok'ra," Teal'c says stoically.

"I, for one, don't want to hurt any of them," I say.

That concept seems to annoy Ferretti, "Look, I'm not too thrilled about hurting anyone either. But keep in mind these people want to make you a host and as I recall you said that whole Jolinar deal was one of the worst things that ever happened to you!"

I did say that. And when I said it I meant it too. Really and truly meant it. But since then…there has been more bleed over from her mind to mine and I can't say I really mean it now. Is it that I'm more ok with it now, or that I'm less me? "That's before I understood it better. I-If I wasn't fighting her and I knew what it meant for Jolinar to be a Tok'ra, it might have been…I don't know, enlightening."

With a flash I realize. Rosha liked being a host. She loved chatting with Jolinar inside of her head. The knowledge immense. The connection unimaginable. The lifespan. My Dad doesn't have to die.

"I need to see Garshaw!" I say jumping up. Guards leave the room to go fetch her.

Daniel stands up and walks over to me looking concerned, "What?" he asks.

"What is the one thing that they need the most?" I ask.

"Well, hosts, which we can't give them," he says.

"What is it?" Garshaw says entering with Martouf.

"You said that the symbiote can cure most problems in a human," I ask.

"Yes," she says.

"Does that include cancer?" I ask.

"What is cancer?" Martouf asks. They don't know the names of diseases. That has got to be something of a good sign.

"It's a disease in humans where the cells grow out of control, you get tumors…" Daniel explains.

"Oh yes," Garshaw says cutting him off, "it's a common ailment amongst your species. We cure it all the time, it's no problem."

A slight bit of relief, "Major, Colonel, I think we should at least try to offer it to my Dad?"

"We might have a host for you," Ferretti says warily.

"You have a host for Selmak?" Garshaw asks with excitement.

"Yes. My father. He's got cancer and if Selmak can save his life, I think he'd be willing to try it," I say. I hope he'll be willing to try it.

"But you have to let us go back," Ferretti says.

"I will let two of you go. But the rest will remain to ensure that you will return," she says. Ferretti gives Daniel a nod. Daniel returns the nod. I breathe a huge sigh of relief at the very least I'll get to see my father die.

**Sam-later**

When Daniel and I are done explaining the situation to General Hammond I realize I've underestimated his resistance to it. "Captain Carter, I am truly sorry about your father," General Hammond says in a very genuine voice, "but I have to question the wisdom of what you're suggesting here. From what I've seen, this won't exactly be saving his life. It'll be more like giving his body to a Goa'uld."

"No, sir. More like letting one share it," I point out. I find myself pacing. Just wanting to finish this briefing and get to my dad.

"Jacob knows a lot about Earth, about the US Military. This would be like handing that information over to the Goa'uld," the General says.

"To the Tok'ra," I correct.

"You sure there's a difference?" the General asks.

"There is definitely a difference, Sir," Daniel says. "I'm not quite sure what it is yet, but I know there is a difference."

"They could have made us hosts if they wanted to. They need hosts so badly, so why not just take us?" I ask.

"They were holding you prisoner. Still are holding SG-3 and the rest of your team!"

"Only temporarily, sir. And they thought it was to protect us as much as them," I protest.

Hammond gives Daniel a look, "Yeah, I didn't buy that one myself, sir."

"General Hammond, please, I know my father would want to do this. He would have the opportunity to serve as the liaison between ourselves and possibly the most important ally we will ever have," I plead. He needs to let me do this and he needs to let me do this now.

**Jack**

I'm sitting with Jacob. He's staring out the window, but I've already gotten the impression that he doesn't want to talk. General Hammond and Sam enter the room.

"Clear the room, people," he says and all the people who were buzzing around Jacob rush out. I stand up and offer Sam my chair.

Jacob lets out a sigh and focuses on his daughter, "I told you not to recall her."

"Happy to see you too, Dad," she says sarcastically.

"You wanted Jack to tell you what Captain Carter does, so I thought maybe she could tell you herself," the General says.

"Yeah? What happened to the classification?" he asks.

"It's still classified. But you just got clearance."

He looks almost as if he's lost interest. That somehow now he doesn't expect the real story. "Why?"

"Well, believe it or not, we need your help, Dad," Sam says.

He laughs, but it quickly dissolves into a cough. A cough that he doesn't quite have the energy for, so it ends quickly, "What? The Pentagon wants me to deliver a message to God when I get up there?" Suddenly I remember a comment Sam once made about her Dad and I having similar senses of humor. I can kind of see it.

"Not exactly," she continues.

"Well, I don't plan to see the other guy," he jokes.

"Dad, have you ever heard of the Stargate program?" she asks.

"No, is that one of your satellites?" he asks.

"I don't work with satellites, Dad, that was just a cover." That is something Jacob himself has said on more than one occasion.

"No kidding. I never would have guessed," he says. He's too sick and too tired to even make his, 'you've got to be kidding me' face. "So tell me, what do you do that's so great you don't want me to get you into the astronaut program?"

"Well, this is going to be a lot for you to take in at once."

"Stop beating around the bush. What do you do?" he asks pointedly.

"I travel to other planets. Much farther away than any astronaut goes."

"So you're not going to tell me the truth, Sam"

"She is telling you the truth, Jacob," Hammond breaks in.

"She goes to other planets. What, like in simulations?" he asks still looking at his daughter.

"No. In reality," Hammond says.

"We discovered a piece of alien technology. It can send us to thousands of planets all over the galaxy," Sam adds.

"You're not kidding, are you?" he asks in shock.

"No," Sam says.

"Holy Hannah!" he whispers in a voice so quiet you can almost not hear it. Sam turns to grin at me.

"So what do you want me to do?" he asks.

"Well, we'd like you to travel to one of these planets with us," she says.

"Why? So I can die there?" he asks.

"No. Actually, I'm hoping what we want you to do will cure your cancer," Sam says.

"They have a cure there?" he says looking around, "What's the catch?"

Oh my gosh. She can't actually be thinking what I think she's thinking can she? She wouldn't snake her own father. A shudder goes through me at the thought.

"It's a doozy, Jacob, I won't lie to you on that," General Hammond says.

**Sam**

Dad has agreed to do it, but I feel bad about it, because I still don't think he understands exactly how it works. I tried to explain everything to him, but he is still a little lost. I'm hoping he isn't going to look back in forty (or a hundred) years and wonder what the hell his daughter got him into.

Jack and I have him each by the arm. Daniel is walking behind us. Dad's barely strong enough to walk, but he was offended by the suggestion that we use a wheelchair, so this is how we are going to do it.

"So this is the alien thing you found?' he asks gesturing toward the Stargate.

"Yup," I say although I had nothing to do with the actual finding. That was Catherine's dad in the 1920's.

"And it sends you to other planets?" he asks in shock. If he was shocked before, he was much more shocked when the last chevron locks and the huge kawoosh comes out at him.

"How about them apples, huh?" Jack asks.

"Incredible!" Dad says.

"Let's go, Dad," I say walking him up the ramp and through the event horizon.

"Does it— what does it feel like?" he asks.

"You've handled worse, Dad," I assure him.

"It's a piece of cake, sir," Jack says. Dad looks at him in a way that clearly implies he doesn't believe him for a second.

Once we're through the Stargate dad looks back at it in shock. I'm kind of relieved that he's not throwing up. I wasn't lying when I said he'd handled worse. I know exactly how many g's my dad is capable of pulling. But that was before chemotherapy had him throwing up at the drop of a hat.

"You do that a lot?" he asks obviously impressed.

"Yeah, once or twice a week," I say trying not to gloat.

"It beats the hell out of a shuttle on the back of a rocket," he says with a grin.

"Goes a lot further, too. You know, I was kind of expecting a little greeting party or something," Jack says looking around.

"You sure this is another planet? It looks like Earth," Dad says looking around.

"Yeah, we figure the Stargate system was built specifically to transport humans or something close to humans in physiology. So it seems to go mostly to places where the environment supports human life," I tell him. He looks at me with another impressed face and this one feels even better, because it's about my brains and not my job. We take the rings down and find the tunnels busy with people moving goods around.

We see Makepeace a little way ahead and approach him, "Makepeace? What the heck's going on?" Jack asks.

"We're free," Makepeace offers.

"Then why are you still here?" Jack asks.

"Well, we want to be allies, right, so we're lending a hand with the evacuation," he explains.

"What evacuation?" Jack asks.

We see Teal'c and even among the chaos I can't wait to do the introduction. Dad was impressed enough with Teal'c just from the description, he's going to be much more impressed with him in person.

"Dad, this is Teal'c. Teal'c, this my father."

Dad gives me an impressed glance and then stares back at Teal'c in complete shock, "It is an honor," Teal'c says. My dad puts out his hand to shake hands, but Teal'c grabs him by the elbow giving him a Jaffa style handshake.

We walk into the room where they are they are fanning off Selmak who is now lying on some cushions.

"You have returned," Martouf says in the voice that means it's really Lantash.

"Yes. This is my father, Jacob Carter," I introduce.

"Honored," Lantash says in a bow that also turns him into Martouf. "I am Martouf. You have a very special daughter."

"Why does he talk like that?" Dad asks in a befuddled voice.

"He's a Tok'ra, Dad. I told you about them," I admonish.

"Oh, so these are the aliens you were telling me about?" he asks. It's a reasonable question, but his ignorance is making him look a little bigoted.

"Well, I don't know if I'd call them aliens, sort of half alien I guess. I mean, the outside is human and the inside is shared between a human and a symbiote. Martouf is actually two different…souls, I guess, sharing the same body," I explain.

"And that's what you want me to become," he says, glancing at first Martouf and then Selmak, "you got to be kidding me," he says in a way that I know offended Martouf.

Dad walks away for a little bit. When he turns back he says, "I'm not sure I can do this, Sam."

"No one wishes to pressure you in any way, sir. The decision is yours, but before deciding, might I suggest that you— you take a moment to get to know the symbiote that wishes to blend with you," Lantash says.

"This is her?" Dad says gesturing toward her.

"Actually, you can only see the host. The symbiote's inside her," I explain.

"Inside her," Dad says in shock.

"Talk to her, Dad. Get to know her," I prompt.

Selmak opens her eyes and begins speaking with her symbiote voice, "If you agree to the blending, we could be together for a very long time."

She coughs a horrible hacking cough.

"You don't look so good," Dad says.

"You are no vision of beauty yourself, sir!" Selmak gets out. Dad pauses long enough for me to seriously worry about what is going to come out of his mouth next. But it's a laugh. It soon becomes a cough and both of them are coughing hard. We all move forward to help, but there is nothing we can do to make it better.

"It's all right, sorry," he says waving away my concern.

"I'm the one to whom you should be talking," the host, Saroosh says.

Selmak's eyes roll up and she takes a sharp intake of breath "You are the one I'm talking to. Why, why did your voice change like that?" Dad asks. Apparently I should never go into teaching, because Dad didn't understand much of what I was trying to tell him about this whole symbiotic relationship.

"That's the host talking now," I explain.

"I am Saroosh. I am in the position to help you most," she explains.

"How's that?" Dad asks.

"I will die, Selmak will live on, you will take my place as host," she says.

"I don't understand," he says.

"Selmak is a wonderful Tok'ra. She is selfless and caring, she is good company. She has a wonderful sense of humor," Saroosh says.

"Well that's good Dad, you can sit around for hours cracking yourself up," I say.

"That's funny," he says, but not daring to laugh again.

"She's not far wrong. I've had almost two hundred years of laughter thanks to Selmak. I'm biased, of course, but I believe that Selmak is among the best educated of the Tok'ra. You will probably be overwhelmed by the knowledge and wisdom you will gain upon blending," she says.

"So, I get all of this thing's, uh, what did you call in their head?" Dad asks.

"Symbiote," he says.

"Yeah. I get all its memories and stuff?" he asks.

"Yeah, Dad, something like that," I offer, but I don't know what a willing blending would feel like. I know for a fact that I didn't have access to all of Jolinar's memories. But maybe with time I would have. Maybe if I'd been open to the blending instead of fighting her, it would have been a whole different experience.

"Then I won't deceive you, sir. We have some pretty awful things buried in our memory," Saroosh say gravely.

"Such as?" Dad asks.

I can just about imagine. I mean I've fought the Goa'uld for a couple of months and I have a pretty good file folder of horrible things. I can't imagine what it would be like if I'd been fighting them for thousands of years.

"Memories of countless Goa'uld atrocities, the loss of the host before me and you will feel the mourning for my loss," she explains.

"Will you excuse me ma'am?" Dad says rushing into the hallway. He starts to throw up just about the time that I get there. I follow him and hold onto his shoulders.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want my future, um, I guess you could call her soul-mate, to see me like this," he mutters somewhat bitterly.

"Dad, you don't have to do this," I tell him. I could never live with the guilt if I talked him into something that he was going to hate. Something he would hate for a hundred years.

"Yes I do. My only other choice is death and that's not acceptable. Look, don't worry, it's not just hearing all that stuff that made me lose my stomach, it's the chemo. And the trip through that damn Stargate thing," he explains. Yes, I suppose the day as a whole would have been hard on anyone's stomach.

"It's okay. This is a lot of weird information for anyone to take in at once. Trust me, I know," I say.

"Okay." He whispers following me back into the room. He walks over to Selmak's bed, "Okay…what do I have to do?" He says sitting down. He's done more than he should be doing in a day.

"First, Selmak would like to interview you," Martouf says.

"Huh?" Dad says surprised.

"If I am to spend the next hundred or more years with you as my host, do you not think I have the right to decide if I even like you?" she asks.

He laughs, "What's not to like? Just ask my daughter, I'm a teddy bear."

That is not the way I'd describe him, "Oh yeah, real…teddy bear," I offer.

"How do you feel about the Goa'uld?" she asks.

"Well, you're the first one I've met," he says.

"I am not a Goa'uld," she says offended.

"Ah, trick question?" he says with perhaps more indifference than he should.

"Remember, Dad, I tried to explain the difference," I scold.

"Right, right, I-I apologize. I guess I've never met a Goa'uld before. Although from what Sam and her people tell me, I don't think I like them much," he says firmly. Martouf ushers me into the hallway, but I can still hear thanks to the Tok'ra no doors no privacy rule.

"Tell me, sir, are you a good man?" she asks.

Dad laughs again. I haven't seen him laugh this much since my mom was alive. That comparison scares the crap out of me. I know he called her soul mate before. But this relationship…it isn't that. Tok'ra do have love. Martouf loved Jolinar and she loved him. A host, a symbiote…that is something different. But just as deep. Just as profound. I felt that. For just a moment as she died. So intense.

"You're kidding, right?" Dad asks.

"No, we'll be spending the rest of our lives together," she reminds him.

"Look, forgive me for being blunt, but you're dying, right?" he asks standing up and walking nearer to her bed.

"My host is, yes," she says.

"And you'll die with her unless you and I, uh…what did you call it? Blend, right?" he asks finally getting the terminology down.

"Yes," she affirms.

"And I'll die too, unless we do this. So my point is, good man, bad man, what difference does it make? We don't have a choice. And I don't mind telling you the whole idea scares the hell outta me. So can we just get it over with?" he asks.

"I have decided I like you," she tells him.

"Super," he says.

"But I must be sure that you understand there will be no turning back. I cannot blend with you, cure your disease, then leave. To do so, would probably kill us both," she says. Jolinar died. Not leaving me, for me and I feel a tiny bit of me grieving for her.

"I understand. Let me ask you something, though. After we do this, will I still be able to talk to my daughter?" he asks.

"The way Saroosh talked to you, yes. But you and your daughter must understand the blending may not work at all. I am very weak and the damage to your body may be too extensive."

His face looks really worried, "in other words, we might die anyway."

"Yes."

He glances at me, "then can you give me five with my kid?"

"Of course," he says.

Lantash touches him on the shoulder, "You must hurry, we don't have a lot of time," then he passes by us and gives us the hallway.

"Listen Sam, I was never good at this stuff," he says.

"Dad, you don't have to say anything," I assure him.

"You've got to know one thing—how proud I am of you. I'm not good at saying these things enough," he says.

My dad is proud of me. My voice breaks as I try to respond, "I think you just said it pretty well."

"Even when I thought you were this whiz satellite geek," he says putting hands on either side of my face, "I was proud. And you tell that to your kids. That their Grandpa loved them and was proud of them. Even if they can't remember me. That's all I want to say."

"Thanks, Dad," I say pulling him into a hug.

"Hey, I know, I'm a pain in the ass," he says laughing, "Maybe this Tok'ra lady will, uh, sand off some of the rough edges. It might be a good thing, right?"

"Could be," I say.

"The longer we wait the less the chance is," Martouf says breaking in on our chat.

"Okay, what do I do?" dad asks turning back to the room.

Dad lies down on the bed facing Saroosh. I hold his hand and feel his shoulder.

"We do not enter our hosts through the back of the neck. This just leaves a scar that many of us find unsettling," Martouf explains.

"So why don't the Goa'uld do it this way too?" I ask.

"They don't wish to remember the horror of their host's face whenever they see their own reflection in the mirror. You must step away, Captain Carter," he says.

"Goodbye, kid," Dad says.

I shake my head, this is not going to be my father's end, "See you soon, Dad," I say taking a step back.

Dad clears his throat and asks his almost symbiote, "Now what?"

"Kiss me." She responds.

"You're kidding, right?" he asks grinning.

"No, I'm not," she answers with a shake of her head.

He leans forward, but it isn't really a kiss. They are still inches apart when the symbiote squirms out of her mouth and darts into his. He recoils in pain. Saroosh rolls over. Dad turns back to her and the Tok'ra speaks out of his mouth saying, "Goodbye, dear friend."

They both close their eyes. Martouf and I rush over. I take Dad's pulse, while Martouf pulls a sheet over Saroosh.

"He's alive," I announce.

Martouf pulls one of his eyes open.

"Is he okay?" I ask.

"He's very sick. And Selmak is weak. She may not have the strength to heal him," he says with concern.

"Well, is there anything we can do to help?" I ask.

"Nothing. Only time will tell," Martouf says apologetically. I am in the same place I was on earth. Waiting for someone else to offer healing or to fail to prevent his death. Only now instead of relying on doctors I'm relying on a parasitic alien.

A Tok'ra comes into the room and informs us that the attack the Tok'ra have expected will be coming very soon.

"We need time!" I demand. I turn to Martouf, "Can we move him?"

"If we do so, it will kill them." He tells me. I run over to Dad and stroke his head. I really wish I could do something to help the process.

I keep holding Dad's hand, stroking it with my thumb. I saw once on a show that that could bring people back from a coma. It's not exactly that I think a blending is anything like a coma, but I feel like I have to do something and I don't actually have anything useful to do.

"Martouf! All tunnels but this one and the escape tunnel have vanished. All the other Tok'ra have gone to the new homeworld. We must go now!" Yosuf demands.

"But what about my father?" I ask.

"When and if he awakens, Selmak knows where we'll be. He can follow," she explains.

"But the Goa'uld are coming, they'll capture him," Daniel says coming from behind her.

"If he's captured, he will die before he will reveal our whereabouts," Yosuf insists.

"Well, then take him with you!" I demand.

"Or we'll take him with us," Ferretti says.

"I'm afraid that to transport him now, he will die. He needs to remain stationary until Selmak has completed her repairs," Martouf says.

"We can't just leave him here!" I say shocked at his statement.

"I will remain with him. If I can get him out, I will. If not, I will allow the vanishing tunnels to consume us before the Goa'uld get here," Martouf says.

"I cannot allow you to die in this way. We must leave now!" Garshaw says angrily.

"I'll stay," I insist.

"You are even more vulnerable since you contain the memories of Jolinar. I cannot allow you to stay. We must go now," Garshaw says firmly.

"She's right, Captain. We have to go," Ferretti says.

"With respect, no, sir. I am not leaving him here," I insist.

"Captain Carter and I will both remain. I will assure that we will not be taken by the Goa'uld," Martouf says with a nod of his head.

"Please, Major. I need to be here," they say. I sit back down on the bed next to my dad and take his hand again.

"Oh God, I hope I've done the right thing bringing him here," I mutter to myself.

"From what I understand, the alternative was no better," Martouf sooths.

"True," I nod.

"Ah," Dad says blinking awake.

"Dad?" I ask.

But he answers in Selmak's voice and says, "Martouf?"

"I am here," Martouf says taking a step forward. There is a sound of an explosion overhead and Dad sits up with a start. Except it isn't really Dad. I am going to have to remember that.

"Should we not make our escape?" Selmak asks.

Martouf grins an innocent smile of pure joy. Something you wouldn't expect to see from someone who has lived the life that he has, "Yes, we should," He says.

"Uh, is my Dad in there somewhere?"I ask.

He bows his head down and when he comes there is a little shake of his head and then his body language takes over, "I'm here, Sammy. Oh man, talk about your hangover."

"How are you Dad?" I ask with concern.

"I'm awful. Headache the size of Kuwait. There's too much stuff in here," he says standing up, "Whoa!" he exclaims.

"What?" I ask with concern.

But what I mistook for a bad thing turns out to be a good thing. He turns around, practically dancing a jig and lets out a laugh, "No more arthritis!" He grows more excited, shaking out his hands, "Holy Hannah! No more arthritis!" I never even knew my dad had arthritis. It wasn't the kind of thing we talked about.

We hear another explosion above, "We should make our leave as soon as possible. This way," Martouf says. As we leave the room we see the tunnel vanishing behind us. We break into a run. The tunnel is disappearing quickly as the rings take us away. As soon as we are on the surface of the planet we break into a run. A chevron engages.

"The Goa'uld are attempting to come through the Gate," Martouf explains.

"Not if I dial out first!" I say running over and starting the dialing sequence, "We'll go to Earth. You two can go wherever you need to from there."

The stargate engages, "Did we open the Gate or did they?" I ask.

"We have no choice!" Selmak says running toward the gate.

I punch in the remote signal and we dive through the gate. We come through the other side landing on our backs on the ramp. A couple of the marines standing around grab our arms to help us to our feet. My dad gets up looking quite spry. Very different than the last time he was on the ramp only a few hours ago.

"I must give you thanks. You have saved my life and that of my new host. We thank you," Selmak offers walking toward Hammond.

"Yes. Can we talk to your host?" Hammond asks nervously.

Dad bends his head down and clears his throat. "So when the little fella inside me is talking, do I sound like she does?" Dad asks.

"That is correct," Teal'c says.

"It's strange. I can feel myself talking, but it's not me saying the words. You know?" he asks.

"Don't know. Take your word for it," Jack says having joined us in the gate room.

"How do you feel?" Daniel asks.

"Well, considering I got one of those things inside me, pretty damn good! Listen, George," he says clapping Dad on the shoulder, "Because of this blending thing, I already know everything there is to know about the Tok'ra. You made the right call," he says.

"I hope so," Hammond says.

"I would be proud to serve as liaison between the Earth and these people," Dad proclaims.

"Good. Well, on that note, perhaps you can ask them to come with me to do a little debriefing," Hammond says beginning to walk out of the room.

"I'm afraid we cannot. We must go," Garshaw says.

"You are safe here," Teal'c assures him.

"Because of the spy, the Goa'uld may already be at the site the Tok'ra have moved to," she explains.

"You can't stay a little longer?" I ask. For a couple months now I've been dealing with the fact that my dad was going to die. Now I would like a little bit of time to enjoy the fact that my dad is going to live.

"No, we must go quickly and stop the tunnels there before they are grown," Martouf explains.

"We must move the Tok'ra to yet another new home. Do you not have a dialing device here?" Garshaw says.

"Yeah, we slapped a little one together." Jack says giving me a proud smile. He may think I have more to do with that than I actually do.

"Hmm, you made it yourself, impressive. Will you show it to me? I would like to put in the coordinates myself," she says.

"This way," he says leading them to another room.

Martouf steps in front of me, "I give you my word, I will watch over your father as if he were my own."

"Thank you," I say.

"It's ironic, ain't it?" Dad says after Martouf has walked away.

"What?" I ask.

"I was trying to find you a better assignment and you didn't need it. Now you've found me the best assignment an old soldier could dream up. Thanks, kid." He says.

"You're welcome. Do you have to go so soon?"

"Yeah. I have to go," he says coyly, "Apparently, I'm the oldest and wisest among us."

"Oh jeez," I say turning away to laugh. It's the sense of humor he had before my mom died. And that's a good thing. Right?

The Stargate kawooshes and Garshaw comes back into the room talking to Jack, "There will come a time when the Tok'ra and the people of the Tau'ri will destroy the Goa'uld System Lords."

"This'll be a good day," Jack says.

"I love you," Dad says pulling me into a hug.

"I love you too, Dad," I say.

"Selmak says, let me see if I can translate this, don't call us, we'll call you."


	29. Show and Tell

**Sam**

I run into the gate room when I hear an unauthorized wormhole. It's not usually a big thing. That's what we have the iris for. But you never know when it's going to be the one that changes all of our lives forever.

"I did not give the order to open the iris, Mister!" Hammond bellows at the gate technician.

"I did not open it, sir," he says nervously.

"Well, close it!" Hammond says with a little panic leaking into his voice. "Get that iris closed, Sergeant!" Hammond repeats when his earlier actions didn't result in the world being safe again.

"I'm trying, but the computer keeps overriding it," the technician says. I sit down next to him and try to help. But we're too late. Someone has already exited the wormhole. Whoever it is is short. It's hard to tell heights when you have the ramp and Stargate skewing things, but I'm reasonably sure we're talking really short. Most of his body is covered in what looks like the fabric of Cassie's teddy bears. He's got a hood over his head that is shaped a little bit like a pioneer bonnet.

"General," Daniel says to get his focus off the computers and onto the new arrival. We rush into the gate room. The new arrival walks down the ramp and takes off the hood revealing that he is a small bald kid. "Search him," Hammond commands.

"General? If I…may suggest…allowing Sam to do it. She can detect other stuff," Jack offers.

I walk up to him and bend down on one knee. "Hello. What's your name?" He doesn't answer. Just like Cassie wouldn't answer that question when we first found her. But he isn't Cassie, I remind myself. There are a lot of reasons for a kid not talking. He could be traumatized, like Cassie was, or he could be scared, or he could not speak English, or he could have one of those developmental disorders I read about before we had Serendipity. "Okay. My name is Sam. I have to check you for…for things you probably know nothing about. But just in case…" I reach behind and feel his hood and his ears. Then I pull down a bit on his mouth, he doesn't resist at all. I put one hand on his forehead and one on his stomach. I don't get any of the feelings that I do when I'm around Teal'c or Dad.

"Well, he's not Goa'uld or Jaffa. I can't sense any naquadah. As far as I can tell he's clean," I tell them.

"What's he doing here?" Jack asks.

"I am here to warn you," he says.

I try to walk next to the boy as we head to the infirmary. We may not have the deepest of connections, but you have to figure that I'm the deepest connection the boy has yet made on Earth. He lets Janet do whatever she has to-MRI, CAT scan and a whole lot of poking and prodding without any more comment or resistance than he had when I pulled his mouth open.

"Well, as far as I can tell, he's human," Janet proclaims.

"No bomb in the chest? Little biohazard in the tooth, maybe?" Jack says. Wow, we really have had bad luck with children coming through the gate.

"Checked for both. He's no threat to us, as far as I'm able to tell, but he's pretty weak. I'm guessing he's malnourished," Janet replies.

I figure since he's talking I might as well ask the question again. I lean forward, "What's your name?"

He twists around to look behind me and says, "Your name is Colonel O'Neill.

I turn to look at Jack standing in the hallway, "How'd you know that?" Jack asks with that voice he uses with kids. His wonderfully soft and relaxed at home voice. Something I don't often get to hear when he is at work and being 'the Colonel."

"My mother told me," he says pointing at an empty spot in the infirmary.

Jack looks at the spot carefully before he asks, "Your mother?" he asks skeptically.

The kid looks in the direction he pointed again. When he turns his head the veins in it become painfully obvious.

"She says I am to speak only to you," he says.

"Well, these people are my friends. You can trust them," he says.

He looks at 'mother' again and then back at Jack, "Mother says to speak only to you," he says with emphasis on nearly every word. Which isn't how emphasis is supposed to work, but it works for him.

"Okay. Why me?" Jack asks.

"Because mother has observed you and determined she likes you. You are one who can be trusted."

Jack looks at the empty room, "Well thank you, ma'am. How long have you been watching me?"

"For many weeks," he repeats.

"Weeks?" Jack says in surprise.

"Yes. She first saw you on another planet and she followed your team through the Stargate at that time. Mother believes you are the only honorable leader among your people," the boy says.

"Then why not trust my friends, my family?" he asks looking at me.

"Because you are the leader. Mother insists I speak no further unless it is with you…alone," he repeats.

"Let's step into the corridor for a few moments, folks," Hammond says and we follow him out into the hall.

**Jack**

Sam said no more kids.

She said she wasn't going to change her mind.

You've got two wonderful daughters.

Do not push your luck.

God, the kid needs a good meal. Under his eyes is all red. His skin is all pale. He's got veins popping out of that bald head of his. His lips are chapped. Jacob looked better when he was dying of cancer. But Janet says it's because he didn't get enough food. Who doesn't feed their kid? I would go hungry a hundred times before I'd let my girls go without. Hell, I feel bad if I deny them some crazy expensive toy, let alone basic food.

And the imaginary mom thing. Jeez, what has this kid been through?

I feel the need to hug him and feed him and take him home and buy him things. Lots of things. And read him stories and tuck him in. Just fill up the lack of food and love he's missing until he's filled to the eye sockets, as my mother used to say.

But we're done having children.

"So what do I call you?" I ask.

"I do not have a name," he says.

Ouch, talk about neglect. "What's your mom call you?" I ask.

"Son," he says.

"It's not much of a name."

"No. it's more of a description."

Ah, another one of those geniuses. "Yes, it is," I agree.

"Mother says you too have a son."

I blink in surprise, "I had one. He's gone now. I've got two daughters."

"What was his name?" he asks.

"Charlie," I tell him.

"Charlie. I like Charlie. It's a good name. Can I be called Charlie?" he asks.

I reflect for a moment on whether or not I'm going to be able to handle that. I can, "Yeah. Sure. lf that's what you want."

"Okay, Colonel O'Neill, I'm Charlie," he proudly proclaims.

I reach out my hand to shake. He does a nice normal shake, so he's probably not familiar with the Jaffa. "Hi, Charlie. Call me Jack."

"Jack," he says.

I sit down next to the kid figuring it will make the whole thing more casual and comfortable for him. "So where are you from?" I ask.

"A planet called Reetalia."

"Nice place?"

"Used to be, until most of the Reetou were destroyed by mean creatures with glowing eyes."

Ah, hence the trauma, "Well that's the Goa'uld. I'm sorry to hear that."

"That's why I'm here…to warn you."

Ah, so that's the dire warning the kid came about. Old news. "Well, thank you, Charlie, but we already knew about the Goa'uld."

"Not the Goa'uld. It's the Reetou rebels who intend to eliminate you."

**Sam**

I've done everything I can to figure out how exactly the computer let the boy through. I know that I should be concerned about the security of the base, and I am. But I'm also unbelievably glad that little kid didn't go splat against the iris.

"We did a Level One analysis on the iris mechanism. It behaved as if control was being commandeered from the main computer by an override. Like it was being controlled from another keyboard somewhere. We have software specialists picking it apart right now," I say taking a seat at the table.

"Colonel O'Neill, any more insight into the boy?" General Hammond says turning to Jack.

"The best I can tell, sir, the kid survived a Goa'uld massacre," he offers.

"Well that would explain Mom. See, it would be a natural psychological defense mechanism. He's convinced himself that she never left him. That her 'spirit,' for lack of a better word, is always with him," Janet says.

"How did he know about my kid?" Jack asks in a way that lets me know Charlie still hurts him. Not this Charlie, the first one whose death totally destroyed him.

"Uh, is it possible; is he some sort of psychic?" Daniel asks.

"Maybe we'll turn something up in our examinations," Janet says.

"For the immediate future, should not our concern be the threat of the planned Reetou attack?" Teal'c says.

"It doesn't make much sense. The Goa'uld attack the Reetou, so the Reetou rebels attack us?" I say.

"We need to determine the validity of what little information the boy's given us. Teal'c, I'd like you to accompany Colonel O'Neill to see him. Listen to his description of the attack on the Reetou and let me know if it appears to follow normal Goa'uld tactics," he commands.

For the first time in my life I wish I wasn't quite so good at computers. If I wasn't so good at computers, General Hammond might send me in to see the kid.

**Jack**

As we walk into the infirmary it is pretty clear that Charlie just had his blood drawn. "There you go. See? That didn't hurt at all, did it?" Janet says. Charlie appears to agree with her. Brave kid. I've never agreed with that statement when she finished drawing my blood.

It's good the needle isn't still inside of him when he catches sight of Teal'c. As soon as he sees him he leaps out of bed "Jaffa!"

"Get that a lot?" I ask Teal'c. Charlie's running around the room trying to get away. I catch him and hold him by the elbows, "Charlie! Charlie! Charlie! It's okay."

"He's a Jaffa! He wants to kill me, just like he killed the Reetou," Charlie says panicked.

"No, no! No, no, no. He's a good Jaffa. In fact, he saved my life one time. He hates the Goa'uld as much as you do," Charlie seems to be buying my explanation until he looks into an empty spot of the room. "No!" he says.

"Oh, for cryin' out loud…" Ok, we'll play the imaginary mother game. I'm standing up and looking over the room, "Um, look, Mom. You said you trust me, right? Well, I'm telling you, Teal'c is okay. In fact, all my friends here at the base are okay. Okay?"

Charlie points to an empty corner of the room, "She's over there."

"Okay," I say skeptically.

"Mother says to trust only you and SG-1."

"Good. Thank you. Charlie, Teal'c. Teal'c, Charlie," I say.

Teal'c walks close and bends his head, "I am pleased to meet you."

I bend down next to Charlie, "Listen, Charlie. We have to ask you some questions about the attack on your people. Can you talk about that?" I look up and see Teal'c looking like he is going to be sick.

"I…I…I am sorry, O'Neill. I must leave this room," Teal'c informs me.

"Excuse me, Charlie. Um, Mother," I say hurriedly running after him into the hall.

"What's the matter?" I ask concerned, Teal'c really doesn't look well.

"My symbiote became agitated when I entered the room," he informs me.

"Any idea why?"

"I can tell you only this, O'Neill. In all of my years I have never experienced a symbiote so disturbed. There is something unusual about this child, O'Neill. I advise you to use extreme precaution in his handling."

"I was planning on it."

"You have seen it yourself. In the hands of the Goa'uld, a child is nothing more than a potent weapon."

I know, but this time we were supposed to catch a break. This kid wasn't supposed to literally or figuratively blow up in our faces. "Carter and Fraiser checked him out for all the threats we encountered from the other kids.

Doc Fraiser walks up to join us in the hall, "l didn't find any apparent threat to us, but he's in worse shape than I thought, the poor kid. Several of his major organs have congenital defects."

No, no. I thought this was malnutrition, neglect, but nothing we couldn't fix. And by 'we' I mean the SGC not Sam and I. Because I know Sam and I aren't going to be raising him. "Oh, God," I say aloud.

"It's like Mother Nature put him together in a hurry and got everything just a little wrong. His heart valves are defective, his renal function is a mess and I have serious questions about his lungs. I'm afraid without some very aggressive medical intervention, he won't live to be much older than he is."

Aggressive medical intervention, that sounds possible at least, "Can you help him?"

"Maybe. But he may be beyond anything our medicine can do. There's something else," she says showing us a scan of the brain, "Charlie's CAT scan. Now, if you look along the lower part of the brain stem, this is the part where normal humans have what is called the reticular formation. It's the part of the brain that determines alertness, our perception of things. Charlie's is twice the size of ours. And that could explain why he knew you had a son. It may also explain why he had such an effect on Teal'c's symbiote."

"So, what? He's got ESP? Some telekinetic thing going on?"

"I don't know. I'm a skeptic on such things, but…" she says walking away.

"It would explain a lot."

**Sam**

The kid is sick. Really sick. Janet doesn't even know if he can live through this. His organs are not working. We are interrogating this little boy when it might be his last month, or even hour of life.

"So, tell us why the Reetou want to attack us," Jack says.

"It's not the central authority of the Reetou. It's only the Reetou rebel faction," the kid says. He uses a lot of big words for a child of his age. But I'm not sure he actually understands what any of them mean.

"All right. Why do the rebels want to attack us?" Jack presses.

"Because the glowing-eye people attacked the Reetou," The kid explains.

"The Goa'uld?" Daniel asks.

The kid looks over to his imaginary mother, "The rebels believe that the glowing-eye people are too powerful to destroy directly. They believe they can only be destroyed by…attrition," The kid says with difficultly.

"Attrition? What does that mean?" Jack asks.

"Uh, attrition is the gradual diminution of strength or number by…" Daniel begins.

"I know what the word means. I meant in context," Jack says cutting him off, annoyed.

"My God. They must want to kill all possible hosts. They must think that, if the Goa'uld have no new hosts to infest, that they'll eventually die out," I say in shock. Jack is looking at me with panic.

"By attrition," Daniel says.

"Yes," The kid says.

"Well, that's insane! There are billions of possible Goa'uld hosts, all throughout the galaxy," I say.

"And they are not all human," Teal'c adds.

"Mother agrees. That is why the central authority of the Reetou sent us here," he says looking at his 'mother'.

Daniel takes a step closer, "I'm curious. Are you a Reetou?" he asks.

The kid sits up in his bed, "No. I am of your species."

"Is your mother a Reetou?" Daniel presses.

"Of course," he says. A mother and child can't be of different species. Well, I take that back. Cassie and I are very nearly of different species. Take a note of the Halloween experience. And if Cassie was of a different species, but was still Cassie, it certainly wouldn't change how I feel about her.

"And is that why we can't see her?" Daniel asks. The kid's 'mother' might be real.

"Yes," he says sounding like he's confused how we didn't get it before.

"Well, if you're one of us, why can you see her?" Daniel asks.

The kid glances over at something that may actually be an invisible alien. He smiles when he hears what must be an answer, "'Cause I'm special."

"You're special. How?" Daniel prompts.

"Mother created me to serve as an intermediary," The kid says.

"She created you," Daniel says.

"Yes. She hoped I would be older before we came, but my accelerated growth caused my body to begin failing, so we had to come sooner," The kid says. My stomach twists up in a knot. She made him. Grew him up with a specific purpose. Something to do, and after that he could be discarded. And now he has to do this big important mission when he is nothing more than a child. And after that, she has no life planned for him. Very likely he will have no life after that at all.

"Captain, you're our physics expert here. Is it possible there's a creature standing here that we can't perceive?" General Hammond asks me.

"Theoretically it is possible, sir, yes. I mean, according to quantum physics, matter exists both in particles and waves. lf the Reetou waves are exactly 180 degrees out of phase with ours right down to the sub-atomic level, then their light and sound waves would be undetectable by us," I explain.

"So, what? Prepare for an attack by an invisible army?" Jack says with the sarcasm he uses only when faced with an impossible situation.

"If there is a Reetou in this room, it came through the Stargate. And it is capable of controlling the iris," Teal'c reminds me.

"Son, how did your mother do that?" General Hammond asks.

"I am no longer called Son. Call me Charlie," he says. I glance over at Jack who gives a quick shrug. Good. He's given him a name already. Maybe if we figure out a way to save him then we can give him a house and two sisters and some love and a stuffed dog and an education and a steak. Not, of course, in that order.

"Charlie, how did your mother control the iris?" the General asks with a crinkle of a smile on his lips.

"Mother came ahead of me weeks ago. She observed you and how you operate the iris. Then, when the time came, she opened it for me just as you do," he explains.

"She just typed it into the computer?" General Hammond asks.

It's all starting to make sense, "That is how the computer behaved, sir. As if it was being overridden by another console," I say.

"So the Reetou can operate things in our phase?" Daniel asks. I'm actually a bit impressed. Daniel's grasp on physics has improved a lot since he came to work at the SGC. He still knows almost nothing about biology, but one step at a time.

Charlie looks to his mother for verification, "Yes."

"Sam?" Jack asks for confirmation.

"It is possible, sir, but it doesn't seem very likely," I offer.

"Mother is growing impatient with your narrow-mindedness," he says looking at me. Suddenly a blue shot flies across the room and takes out a computer. No one is in danger, but it was a pretty scary experience.

"I assume that came from…" Jack offers.

"Mother," Charlie says wearing a facial expression that looks suspiciously like, 'I told you so.'

**Sam-later**

We called in the Tok'ra to help us with our Reetou problem. Which has the added bonus of allowing me to see my dad for the first time since he's become a Tok'ra. I read Daniel's analysis of the Tok'ra culture and apparently, my dad is wearing the garb of the soldier class of Tok'ra.

My dad has fought in a whole lot of wars. I was hoping he could be done. Retire to more of a diplomatic role.

"Hello, Sam," he says giving me a hug.

"Dad, we have a little bit of a situation and we may need Selmak's help," I tell him.

"Selmak, Selmak, Selmak. I thought maybe you just wanted to see your old man," he says.

I smile, "I do, Dad."

"But this time we do need your symbiote, Jacob," General Hammond presses.

"Nice to see you too, George," he says with a grin.

General Hammond gives him a smile, "No offense, old friend."

Dad's head bounces down and Selmak answers, "It is an honor to once again return to your planet, General. What can we do for you?"

"Have you ever heard of something called a Reetou?" General Hammond asks.

"Yes. Why?" Selmak says.

"We may have one here," General Hammond says.

Selmak turns to the other Tok'ra who came through the gate with him and gives what sounds like orders, "Tok'ra kree. Tak lan onobi lon." It makes me wonder briefly just what the roll of 'oldest and wisest among us' really entails. Then Selmak turns back to Hammond and gives more of what sound like orders, "Please send him back to where we came from. In the meantime, take me to this Reetou."

**Jack**

I'm keeping vigil by Charlie's bed. It reminds me of Serendipity's last ear infection. The kid seems to get one of those every couple of months. She finally fell asleep and even though I was so tired I could barely stand, I couldn't bear to leave her side. Just in case.

Sam found me asleep in the chair the next morning. She laughed every time I complained of a backache. No sympathy at all.

Charlie opens up his eyes and looks at me.

"Hey, Charlie. How you feelin'?" I ask walking over to him.

"Tired. Really tired," he says.

The door opens and Charlie says, "For cryin' out loud." Wow, the kid has barely been around me and already he's picking up on my sayings. I wonder what kind of damage I'm doing to the vocabulary of the kids I actually live with. .

Jacob walks in the room and Charlie panics trying to jump of the bed. I grab him into a hug. I'm afraid if he panics too much he's going to rip the IV right out of his arm, "Charlie? Charlie, it's all right. It's okay. It's all right, he's not a Goa'uld. It's a Tok'ra. They're okay."

Jacob doesn't' look so good. He looks worse than Teal'c did. He's holding his head.

"Dad?" Sam says with worry. The last time she saw her dad he was dying. So any sign of sickness has got to be pretty hard for her to take right now. All of the newcomers head out into the hallway.

A few minutes later Jacob walks into the room with another Tok'ra and both of them start pointing strange guns around the room.

"Jacob?" I ask. Suddenly the SP's in the room point their guns close to Charlie. I turn quickly to see a creature illuminated behind him. The whole thing isn't visible. It's sort of shimmery and faded out. It's a greenish black color and gives the vague impression of being an insect, without giving you any specific reasons for believing it is an insect. It's got a lot of legs and a really strange head. It's about the size and vaguely the shape of a human. It's moving its many limbs around and one of them is holding something which I imagine is the gun it used to shoot the computer with earlier.

Charlie jumps up on his bed in front of the creature, "Please don't hurt her!" he begs.

"My God!" I say.

"Hold your fire," General Hammond commands.

"She could've hurt us a long time ago, if that's what she intended," Sam reminds us.

"Tok'ra kree," Jacob says closing up that weird weapon. They walk out of the room. I walk over and get eye level with Charlie. "I owe you an apology."

"I wouldn't lie to you, Jack," he says sounding offended and probably a bit more than a little shaken.

"I know that. I'm sorry. Charlie, I want you to do me a favor," I say.

"What?" he asks.

"You and your mom stay in this room until I get back. Nobody's going to hurt you. I promise. Neither one of you. Okay?" I say.

"Okay." He nods.

I touch his face as I walk away. As we sit down in the briefing room I ask the question that is most pressing on my mind, "Will somebody please explain to me how that…thing could be the kid's mother?"

"He said their leaders created him to communicate with us. They must have cloned him or engineered him somehow," Daniel explains.

"Well, all they'd need is some human DNA and it would be possible to construct him in a lab. It would also explain the extra reticular formation in his brain. Could have been genetically engineered to allow him to perceive this Reetou 'mother'," Janet explains.

I shake my head. He's a clone. A super advanced. Super screwed up clone, "But how do they do something that advanced and leave the kid so screwed up?" I ask.

"Genetically engineering a human child would be a very precise exercise, Colonel. Changing one set of genes to alter the reticular formation could have numerous additional ramifications," Doctor Fraiser explains.

"Even though we can't see them, these Reetou can definitely see us," Sam points out.

"Which puts us at a great strategic disadvantage. I understand why the Goa'uld would want to eliminate them," Teal'c says.

"They're Goa'uld, Teal'c. That's their job," I say.

"The Reetou are a pretty peaceful race. The Goa'uld wiped most of them out just because they were a possible threat," Jacob explains.

"Okay. But how did the Goa'uld wipe them out?" Daniel asks.

"They were able to isolate the emissions that we are sensitive to and develop a device that would expose the creatures," Jacob explains holding up that weird gun that he used earlier, "This is a Transphase Eradication Rod. The Tok'ra have managed to rip off several versions of this device. It's also capable of terminating a Reetou."

"Well, do me a favor, will you? Don't terminate this Reetou. I promised the kid," I say. No one objects to this, good.

"It appears this Reetou came to warn us of an impending rebel attack," General Hammond says.

"Yeah. The Reetou rebels are, um, kind of like terrorists are here on Earth…nasty guys. They could do a lot of damage here, folks. Kill a lot of people," Jacob explains.

"How many are there?" I ask.

"Don't know, but I do know their MO. They work in small groups of five suicide infiltrators. They sneak in, they split up, plant destructive devices and try to maximize the damage before they've even been detected. But they usually attack Goa'uld planets. Any idea why they want to attack here on Earth?" Jacob explains.

"Apparently to destroy all possible hosts," Sam says. Jacob shakes his head, which implies he can't believe it and is more than a little bit horrified.

"Is it possible that they can get though our iris?" Daniel asks.

"No. Their molecules wouldn't reintegrate any more than yours or mine," Jacob says.

"Can our weapons even touch them?" Sam asks.

"Earth weapons will not be as effective as a TER. But since the Reetou are somewhat affected by solid matter in our phase, your weapons might at least slow them down," Jacob says.

"But, essentially, we'd be shooting at…nothing?" Jack asks.

"You bet. Pretty tough to shoot at a moving target that you can't see. Even with TERs it's tough. Best weapon is advanced Intel…knowing where they'll come from and how," Jacob says.

"Well, I should talk to Mom. She might know where this rebel staging planet is," I offer.

"Wait a minute. Say she does give us the address where they're coming from. Isn't it kinda risky to go looking for them? I mean, it's possible we may let more of them through to Earth and not even know it," Daniel says.

"If we've got TERs, we'll be able to see them," Jacob assures us.

"We need some intelligence, Dr. Jackson. It's the only way we'll know what we're up against," General Hammond says.

I walk down into the infirmary and see Charlie crying. "Mother says not to cry."

"Crying's okay," I say.

Charlie looks over to his mother, "She says the boys of your culture do not cry."

"Not true," I say pointing at him and sitting on the edge of the bed, "In fact, there's an official list of reasons for which crying is…a good thing."

"Mother is leaving," he says wiping a tear from his eye.

"Now see, that's a good reason.'Mom leaving', I believe, is number six on the list of good reasons. Actually six is 'Mom says she's leaving in a couple of days'. Five is 'Mom leaving immediately'. Four, of course, is 'Mom already left'. Now, three…three is huge. One of the bigger ones on the list," I say.

He sits up in bed looking a little amused at my speech. He also apparently knows what information I was fishing for, because he says, "She's still here. She's leaving as soon as she has told you everything that can help."

"She's not taking you with her?" I ask, all the while begging, please no in my head.

"She wants to leave me here with my own kind."

"Well, for what it's worth, I think she's right. I think you should stay here. You'd be better off."

"I think I belong with you, Jack."

How do I address that one? I can't very well say yes, when Sam told me no more kids. That most certainly includes sick and needy kids who will probably die. I can't very well say my fiancé won't let me keep you. I can't tell him anything that would sound like rejection and take away happiness from the kid. Best to skate around the question all together.

"Look, Charlie, um…Before she leaves, do you think she could she tell us where we can find these rebel Reetous?" I ask.

He looks at his mother, "She says she'll show me the address."

"That'd be great," I say nodding.

"Jack? Could I be your son for a while?" he asks. It was way too much to hope the kid would forget or be distracted from that question.

"I don't know, Charlie. I don't think you'd want that," I say.

"Yes, I do. You'd be great. I can tell," he says. But I wouldn't be. I gave my daughter pneumonia, let her swallow a ring and the first Charlie shot himself with my own gun. What right have I to take on yet another kid?

"I'll tell you what. Let's deal with these Reetou, then we'll talk about it, okay?" I ask.

"Okay."

**Jack**

We went through the Stargate to the coordinates that Charlie provided us with. We saw not the five or ten that Jacob thought there would be, but hundreds, maybe thousands. And apparently we brought a couple of them back with us. We've done a pretty complete search of the base and now I'm pretty sure that there is a Reetou in Charlie's room in the infirmary.

"Hit the deck!" I warn everyone as I enter the room. A TER reveals a reetou standing in the corner. Before I can react, (I'm going slowly in an attempt to keep my promise to the kid) he shoots the gun out of my hand. The MP's that came into the room are firing machine guns at it, but it doesn't seem to be doing a lot of good. A beam flies at the Reetou leaving its four scorpion-like legs standing with nothing on top. A puff of red blood and green skin comes with the shot. Red blood. All those differences and still… It was Mother who gave that Reetou a fatal shot.

"Mother!" Charlie screams in concern.

"Don't shoot!" Daniel instructs the SFs. But he's too late. Mother is no more than a stump.

"Mother!" Charlie screams in dismay. Doctor Fraiser pulls him into a hug. Good, because the kid needs comfort right now and I can't give it to him. My arm hurts so bad. I hear the shot of another Reetou being blown to bits.

Janet comes over to me, "Easy, sir," she instructs.

"All right, that hurts," I say. But in a rather unique career, this is one of the least painful weapons I've ever dealt with.

Sam comes into the room and Daniel points the weapon directly at her. Danny boy definitely needs some more training on weapons handling, because that's a big no-no. Besides, he was trying to get rid of Reetou, which you can't see, so it wouldn't help to point a gun at something you saw walk through the door.

"Give me a count," I ask Sam.

"I got one," she replies.

"I also eliminated one," Teal'c informs me.

"And we got two and Mother got one. I guess that makes five," Daniel says.

"So that should be all of them, right?" Sam asks.

"Well, let's make sure. Take a team and do a sweep of the base, Sam," I say.

Doctor Fraiser is trying to put something on my arm, but the kid needs my attention right now. I get up on my knees and move in front of him, "Oh. God. I'm sorry," I tell him giving him a hug. He's crying, but suddenly he goes limp. I hold him with my hand and call out, "Doc? Doc!"

"Give me a hand over here. Let's go! Get him up on the bed," she says and someone lifts him up.

I walk over to the side of the bed. Fraiser looks into his eyes, "What?" I demand.

"I don't know," she says checking him, "His pulse is very weak. I may be able to stabilize him for now, but, you have to remember, sir, he has two major organs about to fail."

"Oh, come on. He's just a kid. You've got all this fancy equipment around here…" here I am in those stages of grief it bugged me Sam was in a few months ago. Denial, bargaining. A familiar road. How much more death do I have to deal with?

"Colonel, I'm sorry, but I don't think so," she says.

"Let us take him. He will be in good hands," Selmak says walking into the room.

"Can the Tok'ra help him?" I ask.

"Yes," Selmak says and I would feel better if it was Jacob talking.

"Excuse me, isn't he a little young to be a host?" Daniel asks.

"He is young, but the Tok'ra symbiote that we introduce to his mind can teach him. He will grow up with the advantages that great wisdom brings," Selmak says.

"Two key words there…'grow up'," I say.

"The Tok'ra are probably the only way that'll happen, sir," Doctor Fraiser says.

"Do it," I command.

**Sam**

It was never even a choice. Here I was thinking - are we going to adopt him or are we not? But we never had the choice. Charlie has got to go with Dad or he is going to die.

"Dad?" I ask coming into his room before he takes off. I know that we don't have much time. They have to head back and blend Charlie with someone before he dies. Dies. That was the other choice besides the Tok'ra.

"Yeah? I will have to come back for a proper visit real soon, Sam," he says.

"Could you bring Charlie when you do?" I ask.

He looks at me long and hard for a moment as if he was trying to read something in my face, "You wanted to keep him," he tells me.

I nod.

"What does Jack think?" he asks.

"With all that has been going on we haven't exactly gotten a chance to talk about it. But he named the kid after his dead son. You have to figure…." I start.

Dad nods. "I'll make sure I bring the kid next time we come to visit."

"And when he does the blending. You'll…stay with him right?" I ask. Dad's blending seemed like a pretty scary thing and I would hate to have a little boy go through it alone.

"I'll look after him," Dad nods, "but you do understand that he's not really going to be a child after the blending right? I mean having someone a few thousand years old in your head makes you grow up fast."

"I'm not so sure he's really a child now," I tell him.

Dad nods his head. "Love you kid and I'm proud of you," he says as he hugs me.

"I love you too, Dad. And I'm proud of you too," I say. I use a mock serious voice, "the oldest and wisest among us."

"Actually, that's me," Selmak says, "But I'm glad I make you proud," he adds with a grin.

We go into the gate room. Jack has his arm in the sling from his injury. I haven't talked to either him or Janet about it. I wonder what the recovery time on this is going to be. He's not going to like it no matter how short it is, because there is no way he's going to be able to carry Dipity, with that arm. She's only a few weeks away from being a year old and way too heavy to carry with one hand.

Charlie walks in wearing the strange teddy bear clothing he came with. It's better than the hospital scrubs, but it still isn't quite fitting. He's crying and it's breaking my heart. Jack kneels down in front of him, "You know, there's another rule that says it's okay to be sad when you're saying goodbye to a new friend." Wow he's good with kids. I'm a lucky woman.

"I wanna stay with you, Jack," he pleads.

"Jacob's going to take you to a place where you can get well. I can't do that. But you know what?" Jack asks.

"What?"

"I'll come visit. You'll come visit. Okay?"

"I guess," he says sounding unconvinced. Jack carefully wipes his tears away and stands up.

"George," Jacob says with a nod.

I give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek, "Bye, Dad," I say.

"You take care," he says.

"You too," I tell him.

Dad holds out his hand just like he used to hold my hand when I was a little girl. Charlie looks up at Jack asking permission. Jack has had his arm on Charlie's shoulder. He gives the shoulder a little tap and gives Charlie a nod. He grabs onto Dad's hand and they walk through the event horizon. Dad's head is down so he can better hear if he says something, the way he always walked with me when I was little.

"I wish we could have kept him," I say.

Jack looks at me surprised. "I thought you didn't want any more kids."

"Not wanting any more kids, is very, very different from not wanting that kid in particular," I say. He puts his arm around my shoulder, "I asked Dad to keep an eye on him. To bring him for visits as often as he can," I tell Jack.

Jack gives me an approving nod. "I wanted to keep him too."


	30. Charlie

**Sam**

Dad brought Charlie back for what is going to be the first of many visits. I can barely recognize the boy. He's lost that sick and lost look. He's strong, the tan he got from walking on the desert planet has hidden most of his veins. Most importantly, he isn't going to die.

"Hey," I say holding out my hands for a hug.

"Jack!" he says excitedly. Well, that stung a little.

"Uh, uh, young man. Sam is waiting for her hug," Jack scolds giving me a smile.

Charlie turns to me and gives me a warm hug.

His overlooking of me at first probably wouldn't bother me so much, but Serendipity is well within her "Daddy" phase. Apparently it's a pretty typical developmental stage *. Male role models are the hero and female role models are irrelevant. Jack picks her up from day care and she runs into his arms saying, "ahahah!" She isn't quite talking yet, but this is her general way of saying, "look at me." "Ah" can mean "feed me" or "change me" or "hold me" or "tickle me" or pretty much anything. I pick Serendipity up from day care and she just keeps playing. I'm definitely not the "cool parent."

Except…sometimes with Cassie. Jack's is stricter with Cassie about curfews and phone time and friends than I am.

"So…You want to go to the park?" I ask.

"Will your daughters be there?" he asks.

"Serendipity will be. We'll pick her up from day care on our way there. But Cassie is still at school for two hours," I explain.

"I look forward to meeting them," he says. Then he jumps up for a hug from Jack. Jack lifts him off the ground and makes his legs swing back and forth as he hugs him.

"You coming Dad?" I ask before we start to head out.

"Sure," he says with a smile.

**Jack**

It's strange to think this kid who was dying last week is so healthy now. When we get to the park, I break out a football and he actually starts roughhousing with me. I have the urge to pick him up and keep him safe. Wrap his fragile little organs up in bubble tape. But he doesn't need that from me now. All he needs right now is my time.

"What you are thinking about, Jack?" he asks.

"You," I say with a smile.

"Do you know why you didn't want me now?" he asks.

Sam is sitting a little ways away with Serendipity in the sandbox fighting a losing battle trying to keep the kid from eating sand. "We wanted you," she says.

She starts to walk toward Charlie, but then looks back and Serendipity is making a face.

Jacob stands up and walks over to his granddaughter. Sam walks over to Charlie and says, "Jack and I…we wanted you. We didn't get too much of a chance to talk," she glances at me, "but if things had gone differently. If Janet had been able to fix you. If you could have stayed on earth and lived…you might have joined our family."

"Can I join it now?" he asks his eyes lighting up.

"I'm sorry, Charlie, but it doesn't work that way. It's dangerous for a symbiote to leave its host. If it did that, it might die and you might die. So we're really in the same place we were before. Either you come with us and die, or you stay with them and live," Jack says.

"No, I mean I could come live with you exactly as I am," he says.

Sam gives a glance to her father. Jacob shakes his head. He's also trying to shake the sand off his granddaughter. Another lost cause. Just wait until she's done playing in the sand and then give her a diaper change, or a bath. That will take care of most of the sand.

"Honey, the Tok'ra inside of you…" Sam begins.

"Etu,"*** Charlie offers.

"Right…Etu…" how to explain this to a kid, "Etu would be sad if he had to leave his friends all the time," she explains.

Charlie thinks for a while, "He's older than me and he wouldn't be as sad to leave his friends as I would be to leave my…friends."

Charlie's little head bobs down. Oh crap. We told this Goa'uld he could only go off base if he could leave Charlie in control. Jacob's snake doesn't seem to have a problem following orders.

But when he speaks he uses Charlie's voice although clearly it isn't Charlie. No eyes flash. It's breaking a rule, but in a pretty acceptable way.

"The Tok'ra council usually demands that anyone who becomes a Tok'ra live with the Tok'ra. However, we have never had a host so young among us. We believe this requires special consideration. They have agreed that the child can come and stay with you for one of our weeks every month."

"What's the translation value on that figure?" I ask.

Sam does the math quickly in her head. Huh. When did she learn to tell Tok'ra time? Another left over of Jolinar? "About six days every five weeks," she says looking at Etu. He nods his head.

"How is that going to work? How are we going to explain a part time child?" I ask.

"We'll say he's at boarding school or something," Sam explains.

The head bobs down and back up in a split second, "So I can be your kid?" Charlie asks me eagerly. I look at Sam who gives me a few nods which are just as quick and eager as Charlie's and a wide smile. The kid flings himself into my arms so hard that he actually knocks me over.

"I love you bud," I whisper. "Go hug Sam." I know she thinks the kids like me better. But they don't. They just like me for different things.

He releases me and flings his arms around her, coming to rest on her lap, "oh Charlie," she says rubbing his back.

**Sam**

Jack has left to pick up Cassie from school. Dad's left to fetch a picnic dinner, so it's just me and the kids at the park. The three of us are sprawled lazily on a blanket beneath a tree. Dipity has fallen asleep and it looks like Charlie isn't far behind. I wonder how healed the Tok'ra actually made him. Is he still fatigued from his illness? Or is this just that happy lazy sleepiness that sunshine sometimes induces?

"Charlie?" I ask.

"Hum," he says in that restful quiet voice a person can only have underneath a tree.

"How old are you?" I ask.

"Ten," he says reciting the 'earth' answer he was quizzed on before we left the base.

"No, I mean…how old are you really?" I ask.

He props himself up on one elbow to look at me. "I don't know."

"How much do you…remember?" I ask. I hope I'm not asking some question that's going to make him remember trauma. I know he had a pretty bad reaction to Tok'ra and Jaffa, so I'm hoping he didn't actually see any of it.

"I…I remember about as much from before meeting Jack as from after meeting Jack," he says slowly and deliberately.

"So you've only been alive for two weeks," I say in awe, "How do you…how do you know so much." He searches my face, like he can't figure out exactly what I mean. "I mean Serendipity has been alive for more than a year. She can only say a couple of words and she can't walk at all yet. It took her a whole year to learn to see and hear and move and what is the world and what is her. When we met you were only a week old, but you could already do all of these things and more."

"I guess…I came like that," he says with a shrug of his shoulders. He has no idea how amazingly unique he is.

"What was it like…I mean do you remember your first moment?" I ask.

He lies back down and I think he isn't going to answer me. Then his voice comes out thoughtful and dreamy, "I don't know if it was my first moment. I remember and being underwater. It was scary, but I didn't know why. I tried to move…but I didn't have arms. I tried to scream, but…my mouth wouldn't open. I tried to open my eyes, but I couldn't. It was like…being a statue," he pauses, "Do you think it was a dream?"

My stomach twists. I read a lot of pregnancy books when I was pregnant with Dipity. I know that brain waves start at six weeks. When they don't as of yet have arms, legs, vocal cords, or the ability to open their eyes.

"No, I think you might have been very, very young," I explain. Could he have been conscious that small?

He considers this for a moment and adds, "I was very sleepy. I woke up later and I was startled by something. I could move my arms and legs now and they shot out when I was startled. Then I tried to move them more. I could. I was in something like water, but thick and sweet, so I tried to swim, but I didn't go anywhere. Then I heard Mother. She said, 'little one, you're growing fast, soon you'll be able to talk to me,' and I tried to talk to her, but that part of me still didn't work."

"Did it…I mean you were growing fast. Did it hurt?" I ask.

He considers, "I don't thinks so…" he pauses, "I didn't know that everyone didn't grow that fast."

"What…did you know?" I ask.

"Well, I thought in words, so I must have known a lot already. But, I didn't know anything about Mother, except that she was a thing that made noise and I didn't know about the Reetou or about earth or that I was different from everyone else. That was a shock, I can assure you."

I scoot over so our shoulders touch as we lay on the ground, "I'll bet it was. But you're the same species as us."

"Only, I'm not really…there has never been another me before and there won't be again."

"But that's true of everyone," I assure him.

"Yes, but it's more true of me. By brain is much different than yours. Etu says it was hard to blend with my brain. That there are some parts of it he can't reach."

I somehow find that comforting. Logically I know we're probably talking about his super large visual and auditory cortex. Things that help him experience the world. Not some corner he can hide things from his symbiote. But still, there is a part Etu couldn't touch even if he turned evil.

"So what happened then?" I ask.

"Well, I was awake longer this time. I heard mother speaking to other people," he explains.

"The people that helped her make you?" I ask.

"No," he shakes his head like I am a little bit dense. "No, the other babies."

I stare at him in shock, "there are other babies?"****

"No, they died," he says looking grief stricken, "Mother says it always takes lots of practice in order to get something right. That's how science works."

"She's right," I explain, "But that practice should never be done on a human."

"I feel sorry for them, but if they hadn't died, I wouldn't have lived, so I can't afford to feel too bad," he explains with child logic. Despite everything, he does think like a child.

"Anyway, I listened to mother's voice for awhile as she greeted the other babies. It was all murky, because it was coming through the glass and the sweet water," he says.

"So you were in glass containers?" I ask.

He nods, "yeah, in a dark room. But when Mother made the notes she would write on something that had a little light inside."

I nod. Reetou technology doesn't seem to be that different from our own.

"Anyway, after that mother stopped talking for a long time. I couldn't open my eyes. All I could do was move my arms and legs around and think. So I did a lot of both. I thought I would be like that forever. I ought to have known better, because the first time I couldn't move and the second time, I could, but I was small so I didn't know any better. And I wonder why I was to exist if all there was was this frustrating nothingness. And I wanted Mother to talk again. I tried to think of what I would tell her if I could. But of course I really didn't have anything interesting to say yet. And I fell asleep again, but this time I don't think I slept very long. When I woke up I took in a deep breath, but I didn't get air, all I got was that sweet thick liquid. It made my chest feel heavy. My brain was heavy too, like it is now. I stretched my leg and arms out and wiggled my fingers. And all my fingers wiggled by themselves. They wouldn't do that before."

"They were probably still webbed," I offer.

He looks at me strangely and then gives me a grave nod.

"And then I opened my eyes and for a while I couldn't really make sense of what I saw. But then I focused on that light across the room. And next I saw Mother's pinchers moving across the light as she wrote. And next I saw her. I knew right away that this was the source of the sounds, though I don't know how I knew. I tried to move closer to the edge of the glass, but sweet water isn't good for swimming in. But she saw me looking at her. She looked sad. But when Reetou look sad it's different from when humans look sad."

"But you knew both kinds of sad and knew that it was something called sad right away?" I ask.

He nods.

"And did you know what the feeling felt like?" I ask.

"No…I hadn't been sad yet. So it was a words and a face. Later, after I was sad for the first time, I understood."

"What made you sad, Charlie?"

"There was a brother who lived a long time like me. All the way until he was born. He was a few days younger than me. I thought…maybe the two of us would go. Would deliver the message. But he died."

"I'm very sorry," I say.

"Do you think his organs gave out like mine were going to?" he asks.

"Probably Charlie, did it look like it?" I ask.

"They were mostly tiny, before they were born. I don't know what babies are like before they are born. But brother…he was like Dipity's size," thinking of a little kid like Dipity dead nearly kills me, "and he didn't look like her. He was bald like me and pale like I used to be. And brother didn't move much."

I slide an arm under his neck to pull him into a hug, "I'm sorry you lost your brother."

"I was good for him. Mother couldn't hold the bottle she used to feed us with. And she couldn't hold me. She made a machine to hold the bottle and used to push us around with her pincers. But when brother was born I fed him and held him."

"I'm sure you were a very good big brother, but you said brother was only a few days younger than you. How could you hold him?" I ask.

He bites his lip, "If Dipity really has lived…a whole year…then I grew much faster. When brother came I was…not as big as I am now. Small enough that I had to put things on the floor and stand on them so I could reach the tables. But by then most of my frustration was gone. I thought my arms and legs worked really well, although they work much better now than they did then."

"We're telling the story out of order, go back to the next thing you remember after seeing Mother look sad."

"She told me, "Little one, you are healthier than most, but will you die too?"

I was scared, because I knew what die meant. So I wiggled as hard as I could to try to show her that I was scared.

"No, little one," she said, "You're too strong to die. You'll be born in a few hours, so I'll start calling you son. You can call me mother, because I'm nearer that to you than anything else. Your language doesn't have words for what I am to you. Ours does. We have a word for a person who makes you. Who designs your every trait. Who loves you, raises you and teaches you. Something dearer than the mother of your race. But you can't say that word. You don't have the mouth for it. So I'll have you call me mother."

I tried to say the word, but nothing came out. She seemed to see the effort.

"You can't talk yet. I doubt you'll be able to talk much before tomorrow morning. But if everything worked out right you can think. So I might as well begin telling you the things that you need to know. You are a clone. I made you from the DNA of a great man."

"Hold it, a great man?" I interrupt, "who did she make you from?""

"I don't know. I didn't know any men then, so it didn't seem important. And afterwards I forgot to ask."

He was born two weeks ago. We know that 'Mother' met Jack five weeks ago and was quite fascinated with him, "Charlie do the Reetou know a lot of humans?"

He thinks for a second or two. "I never saw any, or heard of any," he says.

I'll have Janet run the test, but I'm almost certain. But cloning on earth also requires eggs. Granted, eggs with the nucleus removed so no DNA gets passed on. But still…He could have been made from a part of me. This little brother…all these countless brothers…might have come from my eggs. And if so…I'd never know. There would be no DNA behind. My contribution to Charlie's life would be the remnants of a single cell, somewhere in his body. Perhaps that cell is already gone. After all, cells die all the time, I don't know what happens to that particular cell we start at as we age.

"Are you ok, Sam?" he asks with concern.

"I'm fine," I assure him with a smile. "Continue with the story of the life of Charlie."

"She told me about how I was special. I was a different species than her. How she changed parts of me so I could see and hear her. Well, after a bit my eyelids got heavy. And when I shut them she thought I went to sleep. So she stopped talking and before long I really did go to sleep."

"Did she ever tell you Charlie, how she made you?" I ask.

"No, but I saw her do it. She still wasn't sure I'd live. So when I was still a baby lying in the…well, it was sort of like a robot chair, I saw her make another set of babies."

"What did she do?" I ask.

"Well, she took something from a dropper and put it in a glass dish, not a big glass bowl like where I was at first, but a tiny one that she set on top of the little lighted thing she wrote on. And then she put other things on top of it and you could see that the first thing she put in grew a whole bunch. The she put them under a microscope and stuck needle into it. She did that twice. But once the thing behind the needle got fuller and the next time it got emptier. Then she put them in a little machine. I fell asleep and after I woke up she had put these small things into the large cases. Most of the glasses had nothing happen. Some of them turned into little tadpole looking things. Some even got bigger. But only baby brother was born from that bunch."

"What exactly do you mean by 'born'?" I prompt.

"Good question. When I was born it was…awful. I mean, now I know it had to be so all the good things could happen to me. I just knew that I was safe and warm and suddenly I wasn't. I screamed and my voice startled me. I didn't know I could make sound too, I thought that was something only Mother could do. She tried to comfort me, but she couldn't pick me up with her hands. So she just sorta touched me all over with the pinchers and cooed to me. She didn't even say real words, but it made me feel better anyway."

"Mothers are like that."

He nods, "That must be true, because the only two mothers I know-Mother and you-certainly are."

I give him a big smile.

"Then she started to use real words. And she told me how important I was. How special I was. And the robot arm started to feed me and she just kept talking. She told me about the planet we were on. But then she only told me what it was like before. I still didn't know it had been destroyed. Or about the Goa'uld. All I had seen of the world was the dark lab. When I finished eating she picked up the whole chair I was in and moved me to another room. This room had a lot of light and it hurt my eyes. She kept telling me about the wonderful fruit trees and the way the wind went through them. And the way they tasted and I remember thinking that they must have tasted a lot like the sweet water she took me out of and wishing she'd put me back in. And then I got tired. Little babies sleep a lot don't they?" he asks.

I nod.

"And the next time I woke up she had the hand feed me and told me more about her world. About the warmth of the sun. About the lakes where they caught slimy things to eat."

"Fish," I offer.

"You have them here?" he asks in excitement.

"Your…" yeah, he really hasn't gotten to the whole calling us mom and dad phase of existence yet. "Jack would love to take you fishing some time, I am sure."

"On Reetalia, the sides of the animals made rainbows in the sun. But most of them are dead now, because they killed the Reetou by putting poison in the water."

Well that was a new way for the Goa'uld to fight, but it makes sense. They were working with an invisible enemy.

"I'm sorry about that world," I offer.

"I am, too, but she didn't tell me any of this until later. She just told me about her world. About the schools on top of mountains. It's hard for Reetou to climb mountains with their thin legs. So as soon as you can climb a mountain you are old enough for school. And on top of the mountains they have books. And no one tells you what to read. You just read whatever you want until you are tired of it. And then you stop climbing the mountain every morning and get a job. All the books are gone now. Goa'uld are more afraid of smart people fighting them than people who aren't too smart. So the Goa'uld climbed all the mountains and burned up all the books. It was easy for them, because their legs are built for things like that."

I feel like I have to be traumatizing this kid by making him talk about all the parts of Reetalia that are gone. So I ask a question which I figure has to have a happily ever after. "What is left of Reetalia?"

He pauses, "There were some shelters-underground. They were really old. Back from a time when the rebel Reetou fought Reetou instead of Goa'uld. And the shelters where well hidden so that even if you were looking for one and you were standing right over one, you'd never be able to find it. And some of the Reetou got down to the shelters. The ones who did that…they were left."

Wow….Everything. Houses, schools, libraries, everything…gone. Only a few survivors.

"Mother wasn't in the shelter, you know," he says slowly. "She was at work. And she climbed inside of a cupboard to hide. The little guns that let you see Reetou…they don't work through solid matter. And mother heard the screaming of the people that she worked with, but she couldn't come out. She had to stay inside of the cupboard. And after all the Goa'uld left she was one of the few scientists left. And she helped figure out a way to make the water clean again. But she could only do it with a bucket full at a time. It was enough that the Reetou didn't thirst to death, they need much less water than humans, but it wasn't enough to save all of the fish. She felt bad about that. She felt like she should have figured out a way that would have saved all of the fish."

"Mother saved a lot of people Charlie, did you know that?" I ask.

He nods his head slowly and carefully.

"It's ok to miss her. I miss my mom."

"What happened to your mom?" he asks crinkling up her forehead.

I lay my head back on the blanket, "she died a long time ago."

"I'm sorry Sam," he says snuggling into my side. I put my free hand around him. "Tell me more about your growing up."

"Whenever I was asleep or mother though I was asleep she'd slip into the other room to care for the other babies that were with me. But soon I was awake most of the time. So she'd take me with her into the dark room when I went. I'd even see her leave the room to sleep every now and again. But either Reetou need a lot less sleep than humans or little humans need more sleep than grown-ups."

"Probably a little bit of both," I tell him.

"So I got bigger and could do more things for myself. The walking was nice, because it let me be a little bit more in control of my environment. But not being able to talk was torture. It was about the time that I learned to talk that she started to tell me about the Goa'uld. But she never really told me much. Just once she told me the story about what it was like for her when the Goa'uld came. The rest of the time she would just mention them at the end of her description of something good, 'but then the Goa'uld came and ruined it' something like that. She also started to tell me about your world. But she didn't know much about you. She talked about Jack. He was the only human she'd really seen do much of anything. She talked about the SGC too. That was the only part of your world that she'd ever seen. I think she would have had quite different things to say if she'd seen this. If she could have seen the trees and felt the grass and felt the wind…it's a lot like her favorite things in her world. I think she would have been glad to know she'd saved a world like this one."

"I know she would have," I assure him.

"Anyway, around the time I started to walk baby brother was born. He lived for about a day after that. Then he got sick…same kind of sick that I did, I guess. But it didn't happen to me until later. Not long after baby brother died she gave me a book written in your language to read. And she was very pleased that I could. She said she wasn't sure if she'd gotten that part of my brain right. And then she had me write down a sentence she told me. And after that, we did the same thing with her own language. She told me that creatures of my species often spend years of their life learning to do these things. That Reetou used to too, but that just like me, all Reetou are born knowing how to talk and read and write. She also had me try some math, but I didn't know how to do that. She said it was her fault, that she must not have made that part of my brain quite right. But I can do math now," he quickly adds, as if I would think it was a character flaw on his part, "I've been able to ever since the blending."

"I'd love you just the same with or without the ability to do math, Charlie," I assure him.

He smiles at that. "I started to get sick a few days after she made sure that I could read. She put me in a machine that made me stop growing so fast. Then she told me a lot more things about your world and mine. But the whole time that she told them she looked really sad. Then she took me to the place where I used to sleep. "Tomorrow, Charlie, you will meet your own people."

"Are you coming with me?" I'd asked scared.

"Yes, but I will not always be with you," she said with a sad face, "You don't belong with me Charlie. If you had been mine, really. If I'd started with my own genetic material when I made you. If you were my own flesh and blood, modified by me, raised by me-I would have loved you no less."

"Then stay with me forever, Mother," I pleaded.

"I can't and what is more, I couldn't bear to watch…No Charlie," she'd said firmly, "I made you for a task and tomorrow you will do it. Afterwards, you will spend the time you have left with your own people. It's a selfish kind of love which puts itself before its object," she says running a pincer across my forehead. "There you will find others who will call you son by and by."

"She spoke truly, son," I whisper to him.

His eyes, which he'd closed in the middle of the remembrance flick open, "Really Sam?" he asks.

I nod, "and you could make it mom if you're comfortable with it?"

"Mom," he says trying the new word over in his mouth. I guess he must have liked the sound of it, because his face breaks into a wide grin.

Just then I catch the sight of Jack and Cassie waving across the park. I sit up and wave back. Charlie follows my line of sight and stands up. "Dad!" he exclaims running across the park.

Jack shoots me a startled look and I feel a little bit guilty. Maybe this isn't what Jack wanted. But then he turns to the kid with a wide and genuine grin, "Hey, son," he says spinning him around.

I hear Charlie laughing. I walk over to join them keeping an eye on my sleeping daughter the whole time.

"Say hi to your new sister," Jack instructs.

Cassie bends down on a knee and says, "Hey little man." Charlie grins. My daughter is a natural with kids. Nice.

He wraps her in a hug, "I've always wanted a sister," he says.

"And now you have two," Jack says. As soon as the hug stops he lifts Charlie up and places him on his neck. Then he starts off at a full force run toward the blanket where a sleeping Dipity lays. Jack then lifts the giggling boy off his shoulders.

Charlie silently lies down next to Dipity facing her. He runs a hand gently through her hair, "You're better than baby brother, I can tell."

He's ours. He fits here. He belongs here. It's going to kill us when we have to part with him, even for a little while.

*I have a vague memory of reading this in one of my college textbooks. Unfortunately it must have been one the book store actually took back for more than 1/100th of the original price, because I couldn't find this factoid. I have however seen the behavior in every child of this age I've known. So if it isn't proven by research and you happen to be a psychology grad student I just wrote your thesis for you. You're welcome. **

**This is called hyperbole. Theses are actually longer than one sentence. And they take more than an obscure thought others call crazy, but which you can support with evidence. Otherwise I would probably hold the world record for number of theses. As it is I only have two. Still quite a few behind the great and powerful Daniel Jackson and I'm unlikely to get more.

***According to the ever faulty internet it means sun in Nez Pierce. Tok'ra names seem either not to be based on a culture at all or each name on a different culture, so I figured I could pick a culture any culture.

****Apparently, this is the story of footnotes. When humans clone something like sheep, cows or mice they have an enormous death toll before success. Based on how Charlie turned out (much worse than our first successful clone, Dolly, which at least lived out half of her lifespan before dying) I'm guessing the Reetou are not better at cloning than us. So I can't see Charlie as the first attempt.


	31. Wedding Bells

**Daniel**

Every pew in the church is filled. Maybe they should have picked a bigger church. But I have a feeling that no matter how big a church they picked they would have had every pew filled. There are a whole lot of people just dying to see this wedding happen.

The organ strikes up some music. Charlie and Dipity are dwarfed by the huge church doors they are standing by. Charlie is wearing a tuxedo that makes him look like a miniature grown up and Dipity is wearing a fluffy white dress that makes you want to squeeze her. Or take a picture of her. Or do both at once. Her hair is fixed in little blond ringlets all around her face. Charlie places one of his hands on little Dipity's shoulder. She looks up at him with big blue eyes.

"We have to walk and spread the flowers over the pretty red carpet," he reminds her.

She nods gravely, as if this was a mission of upmost importance. The ushers pull the doors wide open for the two of them. Dipity walks through the door and dumps her flower basket at the very beginnings of the red carpet.

"No!" Charlie whispers in horror, trying to scoop them back up. I give him a shake of my head and he takes the basket out of Dipity's arms (causing a small whimper) and throws it to me.

I look up front hoping Jack doesn't think his kids are ruining his wedding day. He's laughing. Good. The two kids begin to walk down the aisle hand in hand and then Dipity trips. She's four months into her second year of life and doesn't have this walking thing totally mastered yet. And I'm not sure I've ever seen her wear shoes, let alone the hard Mary Jane's she's got on over her ruffled socks.

Dipity looks up at Charlie asking whether or not she's hurt,whether or not she should cry. That's a thing kids do that that age. Like they don't quite have down what is a disaster and what is part of life yet.

"There is a list of approved reasons to cry," Charlie tells her, "this didn't make it."

All the adults in the room are laughing. Charlie looks a little bit offended, because he didn't mean it as a joke. But Dipity takes their laughter to mean she won some sort of award. She looks around the room gloating. Charlie helps her up and they make it the rest of the way down the aisle without incident.

Teal'c standing in front of me clears his throat and offers his arm to Janet Fraiser. She takes it with a smile and they begin to walk down the aisle in a completely dignified manner. Janet looks absolutely stunning in the dress. It's a shimmery purple color. It has thin straps and goes to just past the knees.

As much as I think Janet looks good in it, I think Cassie could use a little bit more fabric.

"Are you cold?" I whisper disapprovingly to her.

He only response is a roll of her thirteen year old eyes. It's our turn to walk and I offer her my arm. She takes it with a smile and we begin to walk the length of the aisle. Just as I turn to face the church, I hear the doors, which were closed right after I walked though, get flung open. The tempo of the music changes and Sam walks through the door. Of course Jacob was there somewhere, but you didn't notice him. Pretty much everything on that half of the church was buried in lace.

But wow. Sam looks like an angel. Or more transcendent. Like Oma Desala, a flash of white with a human face but more human. She is gorgeous.

Suddenly Dipity begins to wail and runs down the aisle toward her mother. She trips and falls after only a couple of steps and Sam starts running to meet her. Sam almost trips in her dress, but someone with as much combat training as Sam has can certainly handle a couple of frills without tripping over them.

When Dipity reaches Sam she starts batting at the lace. Sam tries to pick her up, but Dipity swats her hand.

"Honey what's the matter?" Sam asks.

"'ello!" Dipity wails.

"Marshmallow?" Sam asks clearly puzzled.

Dipity nods and then makes a motion like she's putting food in her mouth. It's baby sign language that Sam started teaching her when she was two weeks behind the normal time for saying her first word.

"You want to eat marshmallows? Honey we don't have any here," Sam says sounding if possible, a bit more puzzled than she was before.

Dipity shakes her head and leans into her mother continuing to shake her head. I really hope she didn't just rub snot on Sam's wedding dress.

Dipity sets her head up and tries to pull the sleeves off Sam. God, her daughter is attempting to strip her in the middle of her wedding.

"Honey, leave that on. Tell Mommy's what's wrong," Sam says sitting her down on the floor and kneeling down next to her so she's at eye level.

Dipity touches the dress with disdain, "ello," then she makes the sign for eating. Then she points to Sam.

"You think a marshmallow is eating Mommy?" Charlie asks stepping forward. Dipity fiercely nods her head. And the crowd laughs. Dipity shoots them an accusing look, clearly offended.

"Oh baby," Sam says picking her up and leaning Dipity's head against her shoulder "It's ok. It's just a fancy dress, just like you're wearing." Sam starts walking toward the altar without music, but with a little sway obviously designed to calm her daughter down. Jacob does a rapid walk from the back of the church to catch up with her, once he figures out that she's not coming back to where he is.

The priest isn't quite sure what to do with this new development. After a moment's pause he stammers out, "Who gives this woman in holy matrimony?"*

"I and the little one do," Jacob offers earning a laugh. It's a great way of saying it, because it takes away focus on the fact that he can't say, "I and her mother do." Most people in the room are thinking that he's talking about the little girl clinging to her mother but the stargate contingent knows he's also talking about a little one wrapped around his brain. And to have your marriage approved of by the "oldest and wisest" of an alien race is perhaps a bigger deal than to have it approved of by your father.

Sam offers her father a kiss on the cheek. Jacob tries to remove the little girl, but she just tightens her grip. Sam shakes her head. Then she holds out a hand on each side of her. Without a word her two older children know exactly what she wants and they come to stand around her and Jack. It wasn't planned, but it's certainly fitting.

Once the kids are assembled Sam reaches over and grabs Jack's hand with her free one as she hoists Dipity a little higher on her shoulder. The priest looks a little off balance, but he gathers himself together pretty quickly. He starts off with prayer and a Bible reading. By the middle of the sermon, I have to figure that Sam's arm is killing her. She drops Jack's arm. He looks at her, curiosity mixed with a touch of concern. She switches the baby to her other arm and offers him her right hand for holding. He reaches over and takes it.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today, so that the Lord may seal and strengthen your love in the presence of the Church's minister and this community. Christ abundantly blesses this love. He has already consecrated you in baptism and now he enriches and strengthens you by a special sacrament so that you may assume the duties of marriage in mutual and lasting fidelity. And so, in the presence of the Church, I ask you to state your intentions. Jonathan and Samantha, have you come here freely and without reservation to give yourselves to each other in marriage?""

"Yes," Jack and Sam say looking at one another.

"Will you honor each other as man and wife for the rest of your lives?" the Priest asks.

"Yes," they say. Jack's eyes fall to the ring which I know has the world "always" inscribed on it.

The priest chuckles a little, "I almost don't have to read this next one. Will you accept children lovingly from God and bring them up according to the law of Christ and his Church?"

"Yeah, we'll take 'em," Jack says squeezing the shoulders of his two older kids.

Sam holds the one in her arms a little lighter and gives a formal, "Yes," which looks strangely guilty.

"Jonathan, do you take Samantha Carter for your lawful wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

"I do, always."

"Samantha, do you take Jonathan O'Neill for your lawful husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

She grins at him, "I do, forever."

I step forward to hand Jack his ring. I also take Dipity out of Sam's arms. They're sore enough and she can't do this part with her hands full. Dipity lets out a whimper and pulls back startled. She must have been asleep, or almost asleep. When she sees my face, she deems me acceptable and falls back against my shoulder.

"With this ring, I thee wed," Jack says putting it on Sam's finger. Sam repeats the line giving him the one just slipped to her by Cassie. The rings have the same strange slivery metallic glow of naquada, as Sam's engagement ring. But on the whole they are pretty simple smooth round things compared the odd splendor of the engagement ring.

"You may now kiss the bride," the Priest announces.

Jack leans forward grabbing her face as he begins the kiss. But his arms quickly move to her back as he pulls her down into a full dip. She's clearly surprised by it, but her arms wrap around his neck. He sets her back up. Jack reaches over and takes Dipity from me. Then he grabs onto Sam's hand. She grabs onto Cassie's with her other hand and loops the hand grasping Jack's around Charlie's back. As the processional starts they walk out of the church as a family.

**Jack**

We walk through a wall of bubbles to the car. I tried the convince Sam we should take her motorcycle. But she thought I was pretty insane for suggesting that she drive a motorcycle in her wedding dress. After seeing the dress I can see where she was coming from.

As soon as I get into the car I can see Sam is really bothered by something.

"What's wrong?" I ask, my heart sinking. She's supposed to be happy. Is she sorry she married me already?

"I just lied to a priest."

I close my eyes, "Which part, Sam?" I say trying to remain calm. Maybe it's the 'without reservations' part. She told me she didn't have any reservations a long time ago. But I could live with it if that were the only thing that was wrong. I think that's the only part of the marriage vows I could deal with Sam not being sure about.

"Will you accept children lovingly from God," she quotes.

"What do you mean Sam? You're an amazing mother."

"I don't want any more kids. I'm actively preventing more kids from entering our lives every morning when I take a pill. That's not 'accepting children lovingly from God.'"

"You did though Sam. Three times. You took three little surprise, unplanned children and you love them like crazy. And they were all in a way optional. You could have REJECTED our three kids and you didn't."

"But I'm not open to more," she mutters.

"No and we're not going to have more. But your heart is open to three kids. Only one of them is your own. Well, I mean I guess Charlie is sort of…Janet's…"

"Mitochondrial DNA test**," she offers.

"Right…that proved you were his mother."

"Not exactly mother."

"Ok, right…he's my clone with your egg. The point is you could have chosen not to take him. You could have chosen not to take Cassie. You could have said no to Serendipity too. It would have been different, but you still could have said no. We've got three kids, that's all anyone could ask of you."

She opens her mouth to protest, "Uh…it's all I ask of you anyway. Now it's our wedding day Mrs. Samantha Carter-O'Neill."

Now she interrupts me, "Mrs. Samantha O'Neill," she corrects.

"Really? I thought you were hyphenating," I say in surprise.

"I decided against it about a month ago. I just wanted to surprise you. The whole, hyphenated thing seems so half way and I wanted you to know I am all and completely in. And we were never going to hyphenate the kids' names and it's ridiculous for me to have a different last name than my kids."

I give her a kiss.

"Samantha O'Neill," I repeat. "We're going to cause confusion on the base with two O'Neill's."

"Oh, I think they can tell the Captain from the Colonel and besides, half of them were here."

"Ah, but you won't be Captain for long," I tell her. This causes her to make another strange face.

"What?" I ask.

"I'm actually going to be Captain for a really long time."

I feel fury rise up in my chest. No, Dipity was not supposed to hurt her career. No, we NEVER did anything wrong. I took myself out of her command. I never made a decision that would affect her chances at promotion, THIS IS NOT FAIR. "Who needs an ass kicking?" I ask in a surprisingly level voice.

She giggles, "No one Jack. They offered me a promotion, but I haven't met all the requirements yet."

I think back to her record. How many years was she a Captain? What is she missing?

"Squadron Officer School," she offers.

"If that's it, why don't they just send you?" I ask in disbelief.

"They want to. They won't let me do it correspondence," she says sighing.

Oh Samantha. "Honey, it's just three weeks."

"I know, but we just got married. They want me to go in a month. That means after the honeymoon I get two weeks with the kids and then I'm gone three week without the kids."

"I can take care of the kids for three weeks."

"Three weeks without you," she says resting against me.

"They have these wonderful new inventions called a phone…" I begin.

A grin covers her face at my absurdity, "I'd miss one of Charlie's visits, and then I wouldn't get to see him again for weeks."

"Maybe we can reschedule. I'm sure the Tok'ra would understand. The bottom line is, you have to do this Sam. This family is not going to be the reason you don't get to where you want to be in life. I refuse to let it."

She nods against my shoulder.

"So Major O'Neill, eh? It's been a while since there was one of those. Not as long as Captain, but still, a decade."

"You can't call me that yet," she says. I'm relieved at that word "yet." It means I can call her that soon.

"Ok, I've got enough things to call you. Dr. O'Neill, Captain O'Neill, Samantha O'Neill, Sam O'Neill, Mrs. O'Neill, honey-bun," I tease.

"Veto!"

"Babe."

"Double veto."

"Snookums."

"I married a mad man."

"Love of my life."

"That one I'll take," she says giving me another kiss.

**Sam**

"Mom, seriously, hold still so we can pin up your bustle!" Cassie protests. Janet lets out a chuckle at my daughter scolding me like a little kid.

"Everyone is waiting for us," I whine. The dinner has ended and now my bridesmaids are prepping me for the first dance.

"Well, I'm pretty sure this party isn't going to get started without us," my husband (squeal) says.

"I know, I just…" I say. But he locks eyes with me and it has a steadying influence.

"There!" Cassie explains in triumph running out to give the wave to the DJ.

"May I introduce to you for the first time, Colonel and Captain/Dr. O'Neill!" the DJ proclaims.

"I take it Daniel wrote the introduction?" I ask.

"Got to show off my brilliant wife's accomplishments," he whispers back.

He walks over and takes the microphone from the announcer. "For the next three and a half minutes your name is Maria," he says to me. The audience seems puzzled and a little bit offended, but I knew it was coming. I extend my hand as "My Maria" by Brooks and Dunn begins to play. As the song plays, we do something between a waltz and a more modern dance. We've practiced it, so I'm not nervous and even if I was, I'm pretty sure Jack's facial expressions would cure me of that.

Then I step up to the microphone, "And for this next song we're going to have to ask our two daughters and yes even our son, to pretend their names are Jean."

I'm pretty sure Dipity's been waiting for this all day. She rushes onto the dance floor, but she falls as soon as she hits the wood. Before she has the chance to decide if this is disaster or humor (quite a process at her age), Jack picks her up and spins her around. Her little dress flares out. "Dance Little Jean" by the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band comes through the speakers just then.

I put one of my hands around Cassie's back and grasp Charlie's hand. He puts an arm around his sister and she puts an arm on his shoulder. Certainly an odd way to dance, but it works.

"I played a wedding for the money,  
And I wished that I could tell the bride and groom  
Just what I thought of marriage  
And what's in store after their honeymoon.

And I was grumblin' to the dancers  
'bout how men and women ought to live apart  
And how a promise never made cannot be broken  
And can never break your heart

When suddenly from out of nowhere,  
A little girl came dancing 'cross the floor,  
And all her crinolines were billowing  
Beneath the skirt of calico that she wore.  
Oh what a joy fell on the honored guests  
As each of them was drawn inside her dream,  
And they laughed and clapped and stomped their feet  
And hollered at her "dance little Jean" "

This marks the halfway point and so Jack and I spin together to exchange kids. I take the very happy and also very dizzy toddler, while he takes the two older ones.

"Dance, little Jean, this day is for you,  
Two people you love, stood up and said "I do"  
Dance little Jean, the prayer that you had  
Was answered today  
Your mama's marrying your dad

Well, my cynical heart just melted  
'cause I figured what this get together meant  
How it ended year of tears and sad confusion  
That the little girl had spent.  
Well they told the band to pack it up  
About the time the couple cut the cake,  
But we played as long as they stayed  
For love and laughs and little Jeanie's sake.

Dance, little jean, this day is for you,  
Two people you love, stood up and said "I do"  
Dance little Jean, the prayer that you had  
Was answered today  
Your mama's marrying your dad."

As the music ends we pull all of our kids together for a family hug that makes our guests say, "Ah!"

"Ok, now we need our dads," Jack says as the kids go back to Daniel and Teal'c. Jack was worried that his dad wouldn't come. But I know he wouldn't have missed this for anything in the world. "I loved her first" by Heartland starts playing. Dad and I are really dancing. Jack and his father are more like swaying next to each other without touching. When we get to the halfway point, we switch dads. It's something we didn't tell them before today, but I feel like it's really important. Deeply symbolic of sharing a family.

"Welcome to the family, Samantha," my new father-in-law says rather formally.

I pull him into a hug and place a kiss on his cheek. He pulls away, completely befuddled.

"Thank you," I say. And I make him dance with me. Real dancing. He gets into it after a few seconds and twirls me until I get dizzy.

"Last one, I promise," Jack says, "We'd like both of our teams, Janet and General Hammond, please."

"I told you I wasn't participating in this, Son," General Hammond admonishes.

"Sir," I scold and he makes a big groan as he comes on to the floor.

"The Macarena"*** by Los del Rio comes over the speakers. We taught most of them this song. General Hammond's girls were old enough when it was popular that he missed the phase. Daniel missed out on this, like most of American culture. Teal'c of course was on a different planet when the song became popular.

Actually the only reason this song made it into our wedding is the fact that Cassie is OBSESSED with this song right now. It's "retro chic" or something like that.

But I will admit the only thing funnier than Jack trying to convince Teal'c that this was a 'common American wedding practice,' is actually seeing the man do the dance. Oh, this video is going to be PRICELESS!

**Sam-much later**

I wake up in the hotel room confused by what woke me up. Then I realize. It's Jack…packing.

"What's going on?" I ask dozily.

"The note," he says throwing it toward me.

Fear strikes my heart. I jump up and get between him and door, "Jack you promised me forever half a day ago. I think you can tell me in person what's going on."

"Martouf!" he says.

"What?" I ask.

"In your sleep…you were muttering a freaking love poem to a snake! He's a reptile, Carter!"

"Jack, I don't have feelings for Martouf."

He shakes his head and brushes past me.

"Jolinar did, but you can't blame me for that," I plead.

He turns back, closing his eyes. "Jolinar was almost a year ago. For a year, you've had feelings for another man? You agreed to marry me. You actually did marry me-with these feelings."

"No," I say shaking my head, "I don't feel that way. Jolinar does. And I didn't even know it until I met Martouf," I hurt him more, "Jack, I told Martouf I was with someone I loved. I told him there couldn't be anything between us. I had her feelings sometimes, but I always made them go away. You know Jolinar shows up more in dreams and hypnosis. It's her, I swear."

"You should have told me."

"I should have, but there was nothing there and I didn't want to hurt you."

"But the silence did hurt me. Sam," he reaches for me, "How am I ever going to trust you? What if you did cheat on me? Are you going to keep that from me so I don't have to feel pain?"

"Jack, I didn't cheat on you," I say pulling him into a hug. I feel my fingers digging into him a little desperately. I'm terrified he's going to leave.

"You have to tell me next time an alien invades your brain and makes you fall in love with someone else, ok?" and there is a little humor in his voice. Thank God. He picks up the note. "I was just going home…the kids and Teal'c are there. I was mad…but I wasn't leaving, leaving."

I clutch onto him a little tighter, "Don't ever leave, leave me."

"Never," he whispers.

"And I promise never to have feelings for another alien." ****

"At least pick one that isn't so slimy," he murmurs.

"I'm sorry Jack," I say seriously.

"We're ok," he tells me. Which isn't quite as good as an "I forgive you," but it will have to do.

*Apologies. I've never been to a Catholic wedding. I have been to Catholic mass, Catholic funeral and lots of Lutheran weddings. So, if I got details wrong, I'm sorry.

**Thanks, to wiggiesmom for bringing back my college biology. Mitochondria have their own DNA. Duh! And even a cell without a nucleus has DNA, which could be matched to the mother. In fact mitochondria used to be their own separate species and then they entered our cells to do some digestion. I even wrote a paper on it once. So yeah, we can now know for sure that Sam is the "mother" of Charlie. However, this mitochondrial DNA probably wouldn't have a huge influence of the expressed genes of Charlie. AKA, the kid needed Sam to come into existence, but he's going to be all Jack. Scary thought!

***It's like tinfoil, you love it even if you won't admit it.

****Oh, Samantha!


	32. Ser

**Jack**

I walk in to see a worried Sam…again. Dipity is sitting on the floor chatting to herself…in sign language. At just over three years old she's at this adorable stage where she has a lot of language, but she hasn't figured out how to trap it inside of her brain yet. So everything she thinks she says. Hey, I know some adults who are still like that.

But that isn't what's been worrying Sam. It's the fact that our daughter still speaks more in sign language than regular speech. It's been that way for a long time. But all of Sam's book assured her that it's fine. That it's perfectly normal. That her language development is going to be fine.

Chatting to yourself when playing is complicated when you're using sign language. Dipity holds the toy for a bit, then sits it down, and chats, then she picks it up.

Sam smiles at the little girl, and then comes and stands by me.

"I think she's deaf," Sam says with her face twisting into a grimace.

"She's not deaf," I say trying not to belittle what I'm pretty sure is a ridiculous thought, "Hey, Dipity-do!" I say at a bit more than normal volume.

She turns to me, obviously unaware I was home. (Sam and I alternate days to come home early). "Hi, Daddy," she signs then singing the word, "happy," over and over.

I pick her up. Pull her close being careful to position her so she can't use her hands. "Hi, sweetie."

She wrestled her arms free, and starts signing about preschool. Apparently they read a book about a dinosaur. At least that's what I assume she meant by "long-neck" lizard.

"Honey, can you say it in words?" I ask.

"Daddy, book, dinosaur," she says. With her hands she had whole sentences. With her mouth she has only a couple of disjointed words. No verbs. I don't think I've ever heard my daughter actually say a verb. There might be something to the truth to what Sam says.

"Dipity, when the teacher talks can you hear her?" I ask.

Dipity squints at me, confused. Sam smiles at her. "Hey honey," she says. Dipity turns toward her. "How old are you?" she asks with her mouth covered with her hand. This is a question guaranteed to elicit an excited holding up of three fingers. But Dipity just pulls on Sam's hand. We look at each other in horror.

"What's wrong?" Dipity asks in sign.

I kiss her forehead before pulling away, and making sure I'm right in front of her as I talk, "Nothing honey," I say with a smile, "Everything is fine."

"Mommy and Daddy are sad," she signs.

I sign as I talk, maybe we can encourage both of them, "Honey, I promise it is nothing to worry about. Mommy and Daddy are just a little bit worried that you…can't hear well."

"Deaf?" she signs looking from one to the other.

"You can hear me," I say.

She nods. "Sometimes your voice is big, and sometimes it is very small," she says.

Sam looks at me again.

"Big?" I ask, "Or loud?"

"Loud," she says with her voice and not her hands. "Loud, and quiet," she says thoughtfully.

Sam sits down on the floor cross legged in front of her daughter.

"Honey do your ears hurt?" she says in sign and words.

"Hurt," Dipity repeats in sign, quietly, that lets us know she's thinking. She nods slowly.

"Sometimes?" I offer.

She nods eagerly to that one.

A buzzer rings in the kitchen. Sam and I turn our heads, but Dipity doesn't.

"Time for supper," I say before picking her up, and carrying her into the kitchen.

"Where is Cassie?" I ask as I strap Dipity into a boaster seat.

"She's upstairs on a study date," Sam says casually.

I freeze in setting the table, "Date?" I ask. I'm hoping it was just a slip of my wife's tongue. Cassie is only fifteen.

"Her words," Sam says with a shrug.

"She's up there with a boy, right now?" I ask looking upstairs.

"Jack, behave yourself," Sam warns.

"Cassie, and…" I begin yelling up the stairs. I glance at my wife.

"Dominic," she supplies.

"…Domino, supper time!" I call up the stairs.

Sam smacks me in my arm. Dipity giggles.

I hear the sounds of two people running down the steps.

"Dad!" Cassie says. She takes a step forward as if she's going to hug me, but suddenly she retreats, glancing at the boy. He's tall, but clearly still young. Maybe even younger than my daughter. That's good.

"I'd like you to meet my…Dad this is Dominic," she offers. Ah, not so flippant about the word 'date' when you're next to your big strong Daddy.

"Pleasure to meet you, Sir," he says offering a hand.

"So what were you doing up there?" I ask narrowing my eyes enough that he should have squirmed.

"Geometry," he offers relaxed enough that I know he is either a pathological liar or a good kid.

"Dominic makes it all easy. When Mr. Jackson talks it just sounds like…" Cassie says looking at Dominic.

"A peanuts teacher," he offers.

"See peanuts are a cartoon, Dominic showed me on the internet, I could show it to you…"

"Honey, we know who the peanuts are," Sam offers.

Cassie makes an 'oh crap face', "I'm sorry…before I came to live with…my new parents. I didn't get to…"

"Watch much tv," I offer with a smile, "and your Mr. Jackson sounds like another Jackson I know."

She laughs at that turning to Dominic, "this guy my dad works with. He can go on and on. But at least what he says is more interesting than my math teacher."

"I don't believe it for a second," I tease.

"Cassie!" Dipity signs.

"Yeah, Dipity," Cassie says and signs at the same time.

"Is she deaf?" Dominic asks concerned.

"No," Cassie says, while Sam and I him and haw. Cassie glances at us panicked, "What? No, it's just baby sign. You said she'd grow out of it!"

Dominic looks a little panicked.

"Honey, it's just…we don't know anything yet. We think the ear infections might have affected her hearing," Sam offers.

"Do you ears hurt, Dipity?" Cassie signs and speaks.

"Sometimes," Dipity mutters.

Dominic sits down on the other side of the little girl, "Why do they call you Dipity?" he asks finger spelling the last word.

"She can't do finger spelling, she can't read," Cassie offers.

"Of course," he says with a laugh, "but that's all I know."

I'm liking this little boy.

"Why do they call you Dipity?" he asks her again. Asking the kid instead of us. It's something few would do. Especially to a kid whose using sign language.

"It's a shortened form of her name," Cassie offers, "Serendipity."

"You should tell them you're no dip," he says ruffling Dipity's hair, "Why don't you have them call you Ser?"

Dipity signs "again."

"She wants you to say it again," Cassie offers.

"Ser," he repeats.

Dipity nods her head.

"No," I say. Too close to Sarah.

Sam looks at me and shakes her head.

She doesn't know why I don't like it, and if I tell her…she'll think I'm still in love with Sarah. How did I not think of this possible nickname before the kid was born?

"Can you say Ser?" Cassie asks.

"Ser," the daughter formally known as Dipity says. I can tell I've already lost this battle.

"Ok, time to eat," I say.

"You know geometry is easy. It's all pool shots," Sam offers serving up food.

"Pool shots, Mrs. O'Neill?" Dominic asks.

"Dr. or Major O'Niell," I inform him.

"Sam," Sam corrects. No, honey, fear. Get the fear in the boy. "And yeah pool shot. I can show you after dinner. We have a pool table downstairs."

"Sam, are you actually trying to get the kids away from their homework and into playing pool? You are the opposite of a good influence," I tease.

"The homework is done," Cassie says.

Serendipity enthusiastically signs, "all done" while bouncing in her chair. She certainly understands some language.

"Really?" I ask, "It usually takes you a lot longer."

"Dad," Cassie scolds.

"Cassie, you know how proud of you I am right? You didn't have the same kind of education in Toronto, and you do great with it. Not being the fastest…that's not a flaw," I offer quickly.

Cassie smiles, and blushes, "Thanks Dad."

"Cassie's an amazing writer. Mrs. Black ALWAYS picks her to read essays to the class as the best example," Dominic offers.

"How come you never told us that?" I ask.

Cassie doesn't answer, just pushes paper around on her plate.

"Cassie writes what?" Serendipity signs.

"Just essays…" Cassie says.

"But the way she…she uses a lot of personification. She makes everything feel alive," Dominic offers.

"How long have you known my daughter?" I ask.

"I met Cass when she moved here," he replies.

"I mean…" I begin.

"Dad this is our first date," Cassie says cutting me off before I ask the question.

"Sir…I wanted to ask your permission to have your daughter as my girlfriend," he says looking me straight in the eyes. Cassie squeals, and Sam sighs. And I'm not far behind. The boy is a charmer. Even if she is only fifteen.

"All dates will be in public places, or houses with a parent or legal guardian home. And you will at all times remember that both her parents are perfectly capable of kicking your ass if you do ANYTHING you shouldn't," I say.

"Yes, sir, apart from…my grandma watches my younger sisters and I after school. She isn't my legal guardian. But…"

"Grandmas count," I say with a smile. I really don't think you're supposed to like your daughter's boyfriend this much.

**Sam**

Jack was supposed to come with us. But he got stuck off world. Not scary stuck off world like the time two years ago when he was gone for four months. Just politically bogged down. Either way I'm meeting with the audiologist by myself. And I'm terrified.

"Dr. O'Neill," she calls. Dipity is on the floor, and I call to her. But by her new name, "Ser." She doesn't answer, so I walk a few steps closer to her, and she looks up at me with excitement. She stands up, and offers me her hand. I take it, and I start to follow the nurse down the hall.

Dipity, sorry Ser, doesn't get conversation while walking. I used to think it was because hallways were to exciting, but now I think it might be, because mouths are pointing away from her.

"What is your degree in Dr. O'Neill?" the nurse asks.

"Astrophysics," I offer.

"Your daughter is just lovely," she offers.

"Thank you," I mutter. We've reached the door. "So how does this work?" I ask.

"Just have her sit on your lap. The audiologist will be here soon."

I sit down, "Come here, Ser," I say pulling her onto my lap.

"Mommy scared," she signs.

"Just nervous, it will be ok, and remember to talk," I prompt.

"Mommy," she says leaning against me.

The doctor comes in, "Hello, Dr. Carter, Serendipity, nice to meet you. You can call me Dr. Ann."

"Can you say Dr. Ann?" I prompt Serendipity.

"Hi, Dr," she signs.

"Ann," I prompt. She hides her face in my shirt.

"It's ok to use your hands too talk. Here's how you say my name in sign language," Ann prompts.

Serendipity repeats the name sign.

Ann looks down at the file, "You have a sister can you tell me about her?" she asks Serindipty.

"Cassie, is big. She likes to play with me. But she doesn't like Barbies. She can read books to me. But she doesn't do the voices. Daddy reads with voices. But he doesn't read the real worlds. Cassie and Mommy reads the real words that someone else wrote."

Ann smiles. "Serendipity, you are such a good signer! I know a lot of people who can't sign as good as you can. I want to hear you talk too. Can you tell your Mommy about the toys you played with?

She looks at me. "Block," she says. She uses her hands to pantomime sliding blocks along the metal bars. She glances at Ann, looking confused.

"Tell Mommy about your favorite book," Ann prompts.

"Eggs and Cass!" she exclaims clapping.

"What is it about?" I ask catching her enthusiasm.

"Eggs? Cass?" she asks. She bites her lip. Her hands start to come up, but she puts them down.

"Does Daddy read it right?" I ask.

She shakes her head giggling, "Not Cass…food?" she offers. Her hands form the word ham without even noticing it. I want to cry.

"Ok, sweetie, I'm going to look in your ears," she says in words and sign.

Ser nods at her. She looks in both ears. "Do your ears hurt?" Dr. Ann asks.

Serendipity shakes her head.

"She has an ear infection right now," Dr. Ann tells me.

"What?" I ask in panic. It's our fault. She's had a painful ear infection, and I we missed it.

"Ok, we're going to go into another room, and I want you to look at the coolest toys ok?" she asks.

Ser smiles. She's not nervous even though I am. We walk down to a room with bright lights. Ser looks at them. Music starts behind her and she turns. There are more lights. Then behind her quieter music starts, but she doesn't turn. Then a clapping money begins, and this one she turns for. This circus goes on for a while, with Ser turning for only about half of the noises.

Afterword a nurse watches Ser while they sit me down, "She has an ear infection which affects her hearing. Right now it's to the point that she can probably hear 75% of sounds spoken at normal volume. I'd like her to come back next week to see how well she hears without an ear infection."

"I didn't know…I mean she's had a lot of ear infections. But usually we know. She presses her face against something. And when we know we always take her right in, and get her medicine," my voice sounds strangely desperate to my ears.

"Dr. O'Neill this isn't your fault. Ear infections can often occur without any signs. And some new studies suggest that antibiotics may do little to cure an inner ear infection. The good news is we're probably not talking about permanent loss of hearing. Ear infections only affect them when they have it. There is a good chance that she usually hears normally, but only has problems when she has an infection. She is missing a lot of speech at these times, and that is why she's behind in spoken language."

"So if antibiotics don't work, what are we going to do?" I ask a little panicked. God, I wish Jack was here. I have a feeling he could take all of this in stride.

"I'm going to set you up with an ear nose and throat doctor to see about having tubes put in her ears. Hopefully that will get her infections under control. Then I want to set you up with a speech and language pathologist which will hopefully be able to bridge the gap in language ability that has already formed." Dr. Ann explains.

"Hold it tubes in the ears…that's surgery right?" I ask.

"Yes, but I think your child's ability to hear is worth it," Dr. Ann presses.

"Of course, but…and the speech pathologist…should we stop letting her use sign?" I ask.

"Goodness no!" Dr. Ann explains, "In fact, I think the fact that she knows so much sign might be her salvation. She's got language. And that's what matters the most. Language, grammar, vocabulary. She's going to be alright. All we need is to push the speech. Try to encourage her to use both her hands and her mouth. You use both as much as you can. When she uses speech get all excited, and repeat it back, adding a little. If she says part of a word use the whole one. If she uses one word repeat two. If she uses two give her three."

I nod my head suddenly wishing I'd brought along a note book. Jack's going to want the exact words.

"But I've read your survey. You read with her, play with her, have a family dinner every night. I saw you with her in the hallway, in the exam room. You ask her questions. You expect language from her. You encourage her. Bottom line Dr. O'Neill, I wish most of my kids were in family's like you."

"Thanks," she say bashfully as she leads me back to my daughter.

"Mommy still worried?" she signs.

"No honey, everything is going to be alright. I promise, everything is going to be alright," I say in both of my daughter's languages. She's bilingual. That's how I choose to think about it.

**Jack**

We're at work, and we usually try to keep home and home, and work at work. But when you see your wife at work every day, it's a little hard to separate the two of them.

"How'd Dipity's appointment go?" I ask coming into her office. Everyone else has taken to calling my daughter Ser, but I haven't quite made the transition yet. "I'm really sorry I missed it."

"No problem, there's three more you can try to make it to," she says, and Sam looks scared. The woman who faces down armies of aliens without a flinch looks scared.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"Ah…she can't hear whenever she has and ear infection. They want her to have surgery to put tubes in her ears. They want her to start going to speech therapy, and they want her to come back to see if the hearing problem is only from the ear infections."

"Wow," is all I get out.

"But they say it's…not our fault. And they say we're doing everything we can. And they told me some things to help, but."

"Hey, come'er," I say. We never hug at work. But if you break one rule it often leads to the breaking of another.

"She's going to be ok," I assure her.

"Yeah, they said that. It's just…it's kind of intense."

"Yeah, but we've got this. We can do it," I say pulling her back.

"I was just getting used to being a mom. A mom of a kid with…" she stops. I don't know what word she was going to insert in there, but I know that she edited it out, because she thought it was too mean. I can tell by the expression on her face.

"Sam, you can do this, and she sure as hell are not doing it alone. I mean yes, of course, you were doing it alone yesterday, but you're not…"

"I know," she breaks in, "You're a good dad. I'm just worried…that I'll screw it up and she won't get better. That she'll be forty and still not talking, and it will be my fault."

"We share the work, and the glory, and the blame," I offer her a smile, "and our daughter is going to be fine."

**Sam**

My little girl just had surgery. Actually, if you consider a Gou'auld implantation surgery all my kids have had it. And it certainly seemed like surgery when my Dad had it done, and I doubt it would be different for our little son. Cassie's certainly had surgery when she had that bomb inside of her. And, although she doesn't remember the naquada got into her I'm pretty sure that involved surgery too.

But at least they were older. Three is young.

Her hands start lazy signing as the anesthesia wears off. Train….fast…hills…hills…hills Mommy?

"Right here baby," I say not bothering the sign, because her eyes are still closed.

Her eyes open up wide and startled, "Loud Mommy!" she says with a gleeful smile, and the sign, very, very, said throughout.

"Was I too loud?" I ask.

She shakes her head, "Loud , and good." But when the mouth says "good" her hands say "clear."

They said she would probably be able to hear a little better even when she didn't have an ear infection. But I wasn't expecting this.

"Are you ok, baby girl?" Jack asks.

She starts laughing, "Daddy funny," she signs with the word 'speech' over the words.

"I sound different?" he asks.

She giggles once again.

"How are you feeling?" I ask.

"Light," she signs.

"What?" I ask.

She touches her head.

"Less pressure," I explain to Jack. I'm back to speaking and signing.

"Pressure," she repeats in sign, words, and an exaggerated facial expression.

She really is going to be ok.

Surgery and all.


	33. Ascension

**Jack**

Daniel walks over to me with his face all grave. Crap. He was on a mission today.

"What happened to her?" I ask.

"She's fine," he assures me.

"What happened to her?" I ask again, already making my way to the infirmary. He matches his steps to mine, which indicates that I guessed correctly.

"She passed out," he says. I break into a run. But Sam is sitting up when I get to the infirmary.

I give her a quick kiss on the forehead, and leans into it without even taking a break in the explanation she's giving the doctor.

"Next thing you know I'm waking up with Teal'c l looking down at me. I suppose it's possible I touched something inside the device."

I'll have to ask her for the first part of the story now. But I want to make sure that I let the doctor do her work first. I'd like to scold her for touching the alien device. But she would take that much too seriously from me-her husband. Her team could tease her about it, but not me.

"No contact burns," Doc Fraiser says. I reach out and touch her fingers on reflex. I know that hand has had an awful lot of burns over the years. She has a habit of saving the world by turning of some electricity that's gone horribly wrong.

"So what do you think it was?" Sam asks.

"Well, people have been known to black out from fatigue," Oh God. Ser's preschool had an outbreak of the flu, and we kept her out of school. I mean the kid has had enough problems with ear infections. Granted, she hasn't had an ear infection since she got tubes in her ears. It's probably illogical, overprotective parent stuff, but still…And Sam was home with her yesterday. I was on a mission and it was just Sam and Ser. And she's not like a normal parent. You know, tell the kid to go play with their toys. She's down in the floor with flash cards trying to make up for all her missing vocabulary. She does that and then goes on a mission. And I know she stayed up late last night working on a…little glowy box of something. Something the average parent would have done yesterday, or the average worker would have put off until working hours. But there is nothing about my wife that is average.

"Come on Janet. I was a little tired but…" Sam protests.

"Sam, I'm going to try to…lighten your load around the house," I offer. She shoots me a glare that might have killed lesser men. But I'm used to it. I get it every time I try to do something for her. Which, I'm proud to say, is pretty often.

"Your pre-mission blood test did show slight anemia," the doctor says.

Anemic? The last time Sam was anemic was…

"You gave me clearance to go," Sam protests.

No, Janet would know right? She'd tell us right? How would Sam feel if…She said no more children, but it we were having one…if we are having one.

"And I'm starting to question that judgment," Janet says firmly. I look at her, trying to read into her mind. Trying to figure out if I should suggest a test. They find out you're anemic from a blood test right? And a blood test would show if Sam was pregnant right? Five years though, that's a pretty good spacing between kids.

"There is nothing wrong with me," Sam insists.

"Ok. At least consider what you've been through the last few years. You've had a Tok'ra symbiote die in your brain, your memory has been stamped and your entire consciousness has been transferred out of your body and into a computer and then back again and that is just for starters. Eventually it has to take its toll," Janet says.

I put a protective hand around Sam. But it's not like I can protect her from anything in her past. And if I tried she'd just get annoyed. Annoyed in the same way she would get if I suggested a pregnancy test when we got home. She'd make some snide comment about how that isn't the only thing that can be wrong with a woman.

"Are we done?" with an attitude that reminds me of our teenage daughter.

"Yes," Janet nods.

"Are we sure?" I prompt nervously. Not just about my suspicion. She passed out. I really want to make sure that my wife is ok.

"Send her back if she starts speaking in an alien language," Janet prompts.

"I'm sure I'll have no choice," Sam mutters.

Once we're in the hall I begin to press her, "So what happened?"

"I just touched an alien artifact and…I was out cold," she says with a shrug.

"Well, you should probably go home. Take the day off. Ser is back in preschool and the nanny is going to pick her up from there, so you won't have to worry about her."

"Spending time with my daughter is not 'worrying about her', Jack," she says tersely. Dare I say crabbily? When she was pregnant with Ser…not at first when she didn't know me, but later on when she was comfortable with me, she used to be so crabby.

"Ok, but you did just pass out, Sam. You should probably take it easy for a little bit."

"I have a briefing," she says.

"Ok, be home early?" I ask, but it sounds much more like pleading.

"Yep, to worry about my husband and kids," she teases. From crabby to teasing in a few seconds. Would you call that a mood swing, folks? I'm definitely not letting her take her birth control pill tomorrow until she's done a test. So I have until then to figure this whole thing out.

"'Kay, but I got dinner," I tell her.

"You always do on the days when I have an off world mission," she says.

"Right, but especially tonight."

**Sam**

I can't believe I just passed out! I haven't done that since…since ever! And I wake up to see my whole entire team looking at me with worried expressions on their faces. And then I come back and Janet's all over it and then Jack comes in. I mean the only way this could be more embarrassing was if they posted a message on the Empire State Building.

"Attention America, the Air Force Major Samantha O'Neill just passed out. For no reason. While on a mission to defend your country. Do you feel safe?"

The 'no reason' part really bothers me. I mean if I was a diabetic or if I had some disease. But they are telling me that I passed out from exhaustion. I feel like a woman in the 1800's being shoved onto a fainting couch. I mean, seriously! I've had a lot later nights than last night. I've had a good many nights when I didn't sleep at all! But I guess I'm older now. I can't do things like that anymore. But I'm not that old!

I listen for a couple of seconds at the door to the briefing room so I can join in the conversation as soon as I enter, "Well whatever it is, the power core is missing. I was able to determine that much before I uh…" two seconds in and already I'm stumbling across my great embarrassment.

"Dozed off?" Ferretti offers.

"The engineering of the device is extremely advanced. It's going to take some time to decipher," I say after giving him a nod which is ambiguous enough that he might think I actually appreciated his humor.

"You're saying that the power core to the device is missing?" Colonel Reynolds offers. It's been awhile since I saw him and I wonder what he's doing at the SGC.

"Major, you know Colonel Reynolds," Hammond says.

"Of course," I reply.

"He's been transferred from Area 51 and will be leading SG16 during its long-term analysis of the planet," Hammond says. Oh, they are taking my project away from me. Already. Usually they give me a couple of weeks or a month. Hence, the staying up late last night. There was a project I had two weeks with and yesterday was my last day.

"Oh. Well, as I was saying, I believe that a naquada generator could be modified to interface with the…" I begin.

"Major. 16 is on the case," Ferretti says. Sometimes I think he has more loyalty to Jack than he has to me. Which is bad, because after all he is MY teammate.

"Once I've heard someone conclusively tell me what the device is, I will decide whether we should try to find a way to turn it on," Hammond says trying to pacify both of us.

"Of course. Request permission to join SG16's assignment, Sir," I say quickly.

"Denied. Dr Jackson will be assisting in the translation of the alien language until SG1's next mission. Otherwise, you're all free to take some time off. Dismissed," Hammond says curtly.

I walk over next the General. I remember suddenly that I am in so many ways to him still Jacob Carter's little girl. Which isn't always fair to me.

"Sir. With all due respect I feel fine. There's absolutely no reason why I shouldn't be allowed to help," I protest.

"Major, I have no doubt that your technical expertise will be required at some point down the line. But until Dr. Fraiser advises otherwise, I'm ordering you to take it easy," he says turning toward his office.

**Jack**

She's mad. I can see that as soon as I enter the house. She got home early, as she promised she would. But she didn't keep any of the rest of her promises. She got Dipity from the babysitter's house. Right now, our daughter is sitting at the kitchen table humming to herself. Sam's scrubbing the floor. Hard. Angrily. And she's muttering to it to.

"Ser, why don't you go play in your room?" I ask my daughter.

She shrugs her shoulder, "It's ok, because Mommy isn't mad at me."

I can't help but grin a little at that, "Do you know who Mommy is mad at?"

"Grandpa George," she responds unconcerned.

"Honey?" I ask bending down low.

"Take it easy?" she huffs.

"Which would be the opposite of what you're currently doing," I point out.

"I'm supposed to take it easy?" she repeats, furious.

"Sam," I say.

She glances at the clock, "I've got to pick up Cassie," Sam says.

Shoot, Wednesday, Cassie DOESN'T have play practice today. I should have remembered it was her early day before I left the base.

"I'll do it," I assure her.

"Good, I've got some bread that needs kneading," she says with something like an evil glint in her eye.

"Samantha…relax," I warn her as I leave the room.

**Sam**

"What's that," Jack says grabbing the container of Midol out of my hands so quick that I suspect he's on orders from Janet not to let me take anything.

When he reads the bottle something strange comes over his face.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"I just thought…" he says.

"Hey, why exactly is my period upsetting you?" I ask.

"I just thought…anemic…fainted…crabby…I thought maybe."

"Ah no," I say, "I think the fact that I am very much NOT pregnant is the cause of all those things. Except the fainting. I refuse to blame that on my period." He looks even sadder, "Jack, you really want another kid," I say.

He shakes his head, "No, I am really, totally and completely ok with this being as big as our family gets. It's just once I started to think about adding another kid to the family…I've done a lot of thinking about it in the last few hours. I was getting kind of attached to this kid. That isn't."

"That isn't going to be," I say sadly.

"That's not the sad part," he says putting a hand on my belly, "I was already starting to…"

Love it. He was already in love with the baby and it was just my period.

I grab onto his back with one hand and his head with another. Pulling him into a hug and nestling his head into my neck. "Next time you think I'm pregnant you should probably ask me before you get attached," I say. And what comes next is either laughter…or sobs. And I'm too afraid to check which.

**Sam**

Sometimes my instincts have led me astray. I once tackled a jogger. But not often. Certainly not often enough for me to start doubting them. And this guy has all of the warning buzzers going off in my brain.

"Hi," he says from across the street. I make sure that I get the paper in a way that doesn't show off either my butt of the boobs. I can almost picture this creep using whatever he sees to get himself off in a while and I would rather not be fuel for his fantasy file.

"Hi," I say tentatively. Social convention demands that I stand here and talk to this guy. But my instincts are telling me to get as far away from him as possible as quickly as possible.

"How are you?"

"Fine. How are you?"

"Good. Nice to meet you."

"Yeah, uh, are you from around here?" I prompt. I might as well use this rather mundane conversation to get enough information on him that the cops can find him from my description if this goes south.

"No. But this is where you live," Ok, so definitely a reason for the warning bells.

"Yes it is. I'm going to go back inside now."

"See you again."

Not so much, "Bye." I get into the house and lock the front door. I peek out the glass in the door, but I don't see him. Jack dropped off the girls on his way in to work. HE isn't banished from the SGC.

I load the last of the breakfast dishes into the dishwasher. I turn and see the man from outside standing right on the other side of the island from me.

"How did you get in here?" I ask.

"I won't hurt you," he sooths.

"No, I'll hurt you if you come any closer," I inform him grabbing the phone.

"Please don't. I just wanna talk to you," he pleads.

"About what?" I ask pausing in the phone dialing. But I'm certainly not putting it away.

"It's complicated," he explains.

"Let's start with how you got into my house?" I prompt.

"I followed you home last night."

"You've been here all night?" I ask in horror. God, he was in here with my girls? How did I not notice? Anything could have happened! I've got to be able to protect them better than this!

"I read some of your books and watched the television so I could learn how to speak and what to wear," he says looking at himself, "Is this ok?"

He's not going to distract me from the oh so creepy main problem, "You've been in my house all night?"

"Yes. But you couldn't see me. I just took this form now so we could relate. Actually, I used to look this way before my ascension."

I pick up the phone again.

"Please, I'm not crazy," he says. That brings up a bit of sympathy, since I've been called that since I passed out unexplainably.

"Who are you?" I demand.

"My name is Orlin. I'm from the planet you just visited. I followed you back through the Stargate."

"See, that's impossible."

He walks through the kitchen counter and I leap back in terror, "I can become invisible in my natural, non-corporeal state."

"What do you want?" I say, even though I actually understood exactly what he said.

I guess he knew that, because he doesn't repeat it. He just says, "I'm sorry if I scared you, I just wanted to talk to you. It's been so long since I…I…I know this is going to seem…ok, I'll just come out and say it and then move on from there. I have these, I guess you could call them feelings."

I get on the other side of him and make a break for it.

"But the truth is…I love you," I hear just before I hear the door slamming behind me. Oh, how am I going to handle this one? Jack is the jealous type. Especially when it comes to aliens.

**Jack**

Sam…Sam was threatened by some alien IN OUR OWN HOUSE! Some guy who got through a locked door and claims he was there ALL NIGHT. But I'm not going to explode. Pretty sure she needs a calm husband right about now. She's not a damsel in distress, but she's got to be feeling…violated right about now.

"Sam," I say.

She's sitting at her desk while people rush around in biohazard suits. She looks up at me with…fear in her face. Why is she afraid of me?

"Hey, you ok?" I ask kneeling down next to her.

"I'm sorry, Jack…I didn't…I didn't do anything to encourage him."

Oh God. What exactly happened? I'm guessing more than Hammond told me before I rushed over here. It sounds like he…

"Sam, what did he…?" I choke over the words.

Her head starts shaking before they even leave my mouth. "No…no…no…he didn't touch me…I'm not even sure if he could touch me. But he did say he loved me."

I breathe a huge sigh of relief.

"You're not mad?"

"Oh, Samantha, why would you think I'd be mad?"

"Martouf," she says.

"Listen to me," I say catching her eye, "I don't care if the whole universe falls in love with you. And they pretty much have. I do however care about who you fall in love with."

"I'm not in love with him," she says raising up defensively.

"Hey, didn't say you were. That's what bothered me about Martouf."

"I wasn't in love with him either."

"No, but a part of you was."

"Not this time. Not now," she says.

"Ok, then not mad, concerned though," I say my face growing grave, "Are you…ok?"

"Pretty shaken up, but I'll be fine," she assures me.

Now that I am sure my wife is alright, I want to get to the bottom of this rather odd story, "Looked like an ordinary guy?" I ask.

"Pretty much," Sam says.

"What was he wearing?" I prompt.

"Average, normal clothes."

"Where do you think he got 'em?"

"Come on, we've seen lots of aliens before."

"Hammond had the surveillance tapes in the Gate room checked."

"The alien said he could become completely invisible."

"What else did he say?"

"He just said who he was and where he was from. Believe me, Jack, at first I thought he was just some crazy guy off the street and then he starts walking through solid objects. I knew there was no way I was going to be able to contain him if I tried. My phone line was dead and I decided the best thing to do would be to bring a Code 3 team in here as fast as possible."

"Carter. No one's accusing you of acting improperly."

"Colonel, we're done. I'm ordering my men to evacuate the premises," the Airman says.

"All right, notify the local authorities and tell them the gas leak is fixed," I say referencing our cover.

"Yes, Sir. Our remote surveillance system is set up and can be monitored from down the street. We'll watch the place as long as you want, Sir," the Airman replies. Great, just what I've always wanted someone spying on our family.

"Thanks," I say to him. I turn to Sam, "Should I take the kids somewhere? Or do you want me to hang out here for awhile."

"So far he's only shown himself to me," she says a little dismissively.

"Maybe he's shy," I tease. "I'll drop the kids off at Janet's and be back, ok?"

**Sam**

They think I'm nuts. I hope my husband doesn't think I'm nuts. But he probably does. At least he isn't raging jealous.

Two days and I am not allowed to work. Two days and a psych evaluation. And he waits until the cameras are gone. The cameras are gone and my husband is back at work.

"I understand why you did it," Orlin says.

"Of course you wait until they took the cameras away," I mutter.

"Military protocol. You would have jeopardized your job if you didn't report me," he says.

"I just came from a psychological evaluation. Do you understand what that means?" I ask.

"They think you're crazy," he says with concern.

"Am I?" I ask uncertainly.

"There were times on Velona where I thought I might be losing my mind," he says.

Ok, keep him talking, "Velona."

"Your planet refers to it as 636. I was there for hundreds of years by myself. The first time I saw you…" he says.

"Look…"

"Please. Let me finish. My kind are capable of a level of communication that shares our innermost essence."

I was really trying to tell him about Jack, but this is too good of a lead to let go, "Telepathy."

"Reading someone's mind is an invasion of privacy. It's not about specific thoughts or memory. It's a sort of…exchange of spirit," Orlin says.

"So you did this sharing thing on me," I say rather annoyed.

"Unfortunately, you passed out. I guess you weren't prepared. But I did learn about you," he says.

"What did you learn?" I ask.

"That you're a good person, that your heart is pure, that on the inside your spirit is as beautiful as you are on the outside."

"No, listen, to me. I'm married. I'm happily married. You don't have the right to…look into my mind. To love me…you don't have the right, because I'm taken. Now, I'm going to get the Code 3 team back in here."

"I'll just hide again," he threatens.

"So what are you going to do? Stalk me for the rest of my life?" I grumble.

"Actually, I just wanted you to let me try again. I think a human can handle it. I think you have to just be…well, receptive," he says.

"No," I say. "I don't like the idea of you just hanging around, but…I can't do that. It feels like…betraying my husband."

He stands there for awhile/

"You can stay under two conditions. You show yourself to my husband and you don't talk any more about…loving me, or reading my mind, or anything like that.

He nods his head.

**Jack**

When I enter the house I try to drop my keys down into the bowl that I always keep them in. I can't do that tonight, because the bowl is already filled with a dismantled clock.

"Sam?" I say holding it up to her as I enter the study.

"The Code3 team was supposed to take away all their equipment when they left, no more cameras, no more listening devices," she says with an accusation. If she thinks I'm in on this she is crazy. I'll have to ask Ferretti. If he's in on it, I'm going to have to give them some serious intimidating glares.

"So they forgot one," I say.

"Are you sure?" she asks.

"No."

"Jack Is the SGC secretly keeping tabs on me?" she asks.

I shrug.

"Jack, I did my duty in reporting the alien encounter and now everyone thinks I'm crazy," she says with despair.

"Look, Sam, here's the bottom line. No one has seen what you've seen and until that happens they're all going to think you're nuts."

"He's agreed to show himself to you," she says.

"What?" I say. Then in a flash a man appears before me. "Holy crap!" I exclaim.

"Don't be alarmed," he says.

"I am alarmed. As far as I am concerned you are way too obsessed with my wife."

"I was lonely. I'd been alone for a long time. But she told me…that I could only stay if I showed myself to you and…stopped loving her."

I give a nod to my wife, "Ok, so why are you here exactly?"

"I don't know where the rest of my kind are," Orlin says.

"Well, believe it or not, we met one of them. Her name was Oma Desala," Sam offers.

"Really. Never heard of her," Orlin says slowly and deliberately.

"She could do the same glowy kind of things that you can and she controlled the forces of Nature," Sam says.

"Yeah, that's easy."

"Well she lived on a planet called Kheb and she helped people ascend to a higher plane of existence," Sam says.

"That's why I've never heard of her. She was probably banished, like me," Orlin says.

"What exactly did you get banished for?" I ask suspiciously.

"Breaking one of the most sacred rules of our kind: Do not accelerate the natural ascension process of those beneath. The humans of Velona were under attack from the Goa'uld. I was prohibited from interfering, but I couldn't just watch them die."

"You told them how to build the weapon," Sam says.

"So it is a weapon," I say pointing a finger at my wife. She hadn't quite admitted that to Stargate command yet.

"Communicated the knowledge, yes. They saved themselves," Orlin says as if it is a very important distinction.

"But not for long," I offer.

"No," Orlin says sadly.

"Well, you were right to try," Sam offers.

"You're wrong. It was a horrible mistake. Shortly after they used the weapon to defend themselves, they started to plan the conquest of other planets using the technology that I gave them," Orlin explains.

"So what happened next?" I prompt.

"The others," Orlin says dramatically.

"The others of your kind destroyed the planet? Well, they interfered too, isn't that breaking their own rule?" Sam asks.

"As a collective, they decided it was necessary to prevent a disaster that I was responsible for. I was forced to live on Velona after that as my punishment," Orlin says.

"You couldn't have known," she comforts.

"That's why the rule exists," Orlin says with a sign.

**Sam**

"Would the others still want to destroy us, even if we only intend to use the weapon to defend ourselves?" Jack presses Orlin after we've had dinner together. Orlin made us dinner. He is toeing that line with flirting with me. Jack has the kids at Janet's again. He wants to guard them from having to experience the amazing invisible person. But he also doesn't love leaving me alone with Orlin either. He trusts me, but still…

"How can you be sure of your people's intentions? You obviously can't trust them if you think that they would spy on you inside of your own house," Orlin protests.

"Yeah, I guess I can't trust all of them," I admit.

"I've read some of your recent history," Orlin says. Oh dear, we're doomed.

"And?" I prompt.

"Many of the creators of the first atom bomb honestly believed it would only be used to maintain peace. I can't take the chance, Sam. I won't be responsible for the demise of another civilization," he mutters.

"Well if you thought it might come to that, why didn't you just destroy the weapon?" I ask.

"I thought I had. I never expected you to be able to replace the power core. You really are brilliant," he says.

Jack and I both narrow our eyes in a 'watch it buddy' face.

"The point is they are going to set this thing off and we need a way to stop it," Jack says.

"How? You have no proof without exposing me," Orlin says.

"I know," Sam says and we promised not to do that.

Jack is opening the mail and his face goes pale. "Ah, Samantha, we have some extra charges on our credit card this month."

I look up at him, as he begins to read them off, "100 pounds of raw titanium. 200 feet of fiber optic cable. Seven 100, 000 watt industrial strength capacitors. I could continue this list, but I think I have enough to get an explanation," he says looking pointing at Orlin.

"I made those purchases."

"Care to tell me why?" Jack asks.

"I'm building a Stargate," Orlin says.

"Excuse me?" Jack says blinking.

"Sort of. This won't dial multiple addresses and will only create a wormhole once and probably burn out," Orlin explains.

"And you ordered the materials on line," Sam says.

"Mostly. Sorry, but you're going to have a pretty big credit card bill this month. Oh and you're going to need a new toaster. I tapped into the main power line. Hopefully we'll be able to draw enough energy," Orlin says.

"Well, I think we've got to be seeing this thing," Jack says excitedly.

"I'm going back," Orlin says slowly.

"You were alone on that planet for how many years? And now you're going to be alone again?" I say concerned.

"It's the only way I can save your people," he says flipping the switch and disappearing through the event horizon.


	34. Rite of Passage

**Jack**

"Cassandra! Cake time!" I exclaim. "I'm not imagining it; I mean she was here, was she not?"

"Yeah! For almost the entire time she was opening her presents," Sam says.

"Cassie wants Dominic!" Ser exclaims.

"Please add a 'to see' in there before Daddy's head explodes," Sam cautions her.

"Cassie wants to see Dominic," Ser repeats.

"Cass a frass!" I yell again.

"What?" she says snottily brushing her already perfect hair.

"Why aren't you wearing the new shirt we got you?" I ask looking disapprovingly at the too tight shirt that she does have on.

"Oh! Well, that's like for school," she responds. I don't think I like being the father of a sixteen year old. At least not so far.

"Hey! Make a wish!" Sam says.

"Dominic's waiting," she says.

"Fine! Invite him in. I'm sure he'd like to have a piece of birthday cake."

"You said I could go," Cassie wines.

"Yeah, we did…after," Sam says.

"We're meeting a bunch of people" she protests.

Sam walks over to her, and places a hand on her forehead, "You know, considering that you have not been feeling well, I think you're just lucky I'm letting you go out at all."

"Fine!" Cassie says stomping out of the room.

**Cassie**

Stupid cake. Stupid earth tradition. We never used to have that on Hanka. Actually, by the time you turned sixteen on Hanka you were considered grown up. If I still lived there Dominic and I would probably be engaged.

Except not, because Dominic never lived on Hanka. So if I had kept living there I would probably be engaged to someone else. I can't imagine that, because I love Dominic so much.

"They're not letting me leave yet, so, I mean if you want to meet up with everybody then—"I say apologetically.

"Wait a second…here. Happy Birthday," he says extending a box to me. I open it up to find a prism inside.

"It's just like the ones from class," I say.

"Yeah, well, you…you said it was pretty, so…This one's for decoration, so…I thought you could put it in your room," he says nervously.

I hold it up to the light, and a rainbow shines on his face. He steps forward. He's going to kiss me! We've been dating for four months and a week now, but we've never kissed. But right now…this is going to be my first kiss!

The lights flicker overhead and I have a brief thought that it's like fireworks celebrating our first kiss. But then….nothing.

**Sam**

"Help!" Dominic screams from the porch, and Jack and I are out there in no time. Cassie is lying on the porch not moving. I don't bother to check for a pulse, because she is clearly breathing, but I do feel her forehead which is warmer than it was a few minutes ago when I checked.

"What happened?!" Jack demands of Dominic.

"Nothing! She just fell," he insists.

"She's running a temperature," I say. I turn to Dominic, "What was she doing when she "just fell"?"

"I…I kissed her," he stammers. Oh no, he's Jack bait right now.

"You kissed her?" Jack demands.

"It's her birthday, all right?" he says growing more and more concerned, "Look, I'm telling you! The light just exploded, and she just…passed out! That's what happened!"

"We need to get her to the infirmary," I say.

"I'll get the car keys," Jack says disappearing into the house.

"Hey, I can watch Dipity while you're gone," Dominic offers.

"I don't know when we'll be back. I'll call Daniel to come, but you'll stay with her until he comes?" I ask. Dominic nods. He really is a good kid. And sixteen isn't a bad age for a first kiss. I'm going to have to calm Jack down about all of that.

**Jack**

She's not a little girl. When the hell did that happen? She's sixteen. Man, when I was sixteen I felt like I didn't belong to my family. I felt like my friends were all that mattered. I was all about my girlfriend.

But she was supposed to be the one teenager in the history of teenagers that this didn't happen to. Well, her and her little sister.

Sam reaches over and touches her forehead, "Her fever still hasn't come down."

Janet walks in, "Sir? Sam? I need to get a sample of your blood. Cassandra's bloodwork shows the presence of a retrovirus."

"She just got over the flu," I offer.

"Well, whatever this is it isn't the flu," Janet says. Of course I knew that. The flu doesn't normally make people pass out during their first kiss.

"You think there's a causal relationship between the retrovirus and the EM field? Sam asks.

"Possibly," Janet replies.

Ok, I feel a little out of the loop. But when do I not feel out of the loop when the two of them are talking to one another, "What?"

"Cassandra's body is somehow generating a low level electromagnetic field that's periodically spiking. That could be why the light exploded on the porch," Sam explains.

"And why I can't do an MRI to find out what other effects this retrovirus is having," Janet adds.

Cassie wakes up, and looks around the room confused.

"Mom? Dad?"

"We're here, honey," I say touching her arm.

"I couldn't finish the harvest," Cassie says.

Sam glances nervously at me, "That's OK."

"I have to go into the forest," she insists.

"It's OK, Cassie," I assure her. Janet is getting ready to inject her with something. The lights flicker just like they did when she passed out before. And then she passes out again.

**Sam**

It kills me to leave Cassie. I mean there are obviously nurses there that would take care of any of her physical needs. But if she wakes up again I want her to have family there to look after her. But this meeting is about what is wrong with her, and I have to know what is going on with my daughter.

"Do I need to put the base under quarantine?" Hammond demands.

"I don't think it's contagious, Sir. Major O'Neill and Colonel O'Neill show no evidence of the retrovirus in their blood."

"Then where did Cassandra contract it?" the General asks.

"I'm guessing her home planet," Janet offers.

"Cassandra has not been to that planet in several years," Teal'c says looking confused.

"Retroviruses can exist in the body for years undetected before the symptoms first appear. When it does emerge, it starts to rewrite the individual's DNA in order to replicate. I've compared this one with every retrovirus on record, and it doesn't match any of them," Janet explains.

"So, there's obviously no vaccine," I say with a sinking of my stomach.

"I've been giving her antiviral medications, but the most recent tests show it's spread to her cerebral spinal fluid. At this moment, I'm more concerned about brain damage," Janet says.

"You know, the team that was originally was on Cassie's planet mentioned something like this…and the kids got cured somehow. And Cassie keeps talking about wanting to go into the forest," Jack offers.

"Worth a shot," Hammond says.

**Sam-later**

Jack's off looking for a cure, which is good. I know that it had to be one of us that went off looking for a cure, and one of us that stayed and watched our sick daughter. And I really wanted to be the one to stay with Cassie. But I actually wish we could have both stayed with Cassie. It's kind of like when I had to go to the audiologist alone. Scary.

When I return from the meeting Cassie's bed is empty, and I'm flung in a second into absolute panic. "Cassie?" I call. Cassie is walking into the hallway, and I call after her, "Cassandra? What are you doing?!"

Her voice sounds weak as she says, "I have to go…"

"You're not well enough to go anywhere! Now get back in bed," I say trying to take her arm, but she pulls it away from me quickly.

"I have to go into the forest!" she insists angrily.

"I need you to get back in bed, OK?" I tell her.

"You're not my mother!" she says bitterly.

"Okaay, then what have I been to you these last few years?" I say as calmly as I can.

"You don't understand!" she says.

"I care about what happens to you! Don't you know what you mean to me?" I say but Cassie is still not returning to bed.

"Don't you get it? It doesn't matter!" Cassie says.

I pause a little, and my voice sounds smaller than I mean it to when I say, "It's the only thing that matters, please! Let me try and help you."

"You can't! If you wanna help me, then leave me alone!" she insists.

"OK! Just hear me out. Let's get you back into bed, and then we'll talk. OK? Dad will be back soon…" I begin.

She pushes me against the wall, "And he's not my father. Just leave me alone!" she says as she runs toward the elevator. The Airmen capture her, and drag her back to the infirmary. It's not an easy thing for a mom to watch.

"No no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! Let me go, let me go, let me go!" she pleads with me.

"I can't do that!" I say softly.

"You're killing me!" she screams as the lights flicker.

**Jack**

I walk into Cassie's room, and she's sleeping on the bed. Based on the way she is breathing I am guessing it is actually true sleep. Not passed out. I sit down next to Sam.

"She's still running a fever?" I ask.

"Seems to have peaked, but her bloodwork says otherwise. There are no antibodies. No indication that her body's fighting this thing, just more retrovirus," Sam says worried.

"Does she know what's happening to her?" Sam asks.

"She seems driven to go back to the planet. I don't know if that is instinctual or a side effect of this retrovirus," Sam says with a big sigh. "What did you find?" he asks with intensity.

"Looks like Nirti messed with these kids. We found the lab, but without Nirti…" I start.

"You stay with her, I need to see that lab," she says standing up.

**Jack-later**

Cassie opens up her eyes, and I give her a wide grin. "Hey, how are you feeling? Any better?"

"Why are you keeping me in here?" she says harshly.

"We have to. Your body is generating an ME field."

"EM field. If you let me go back to the planet then that won't happen anymore," she says.

"I don't think that's the way it works."

"You don't know that. You don't know anything. You're just keeping me here because you're afraid," she says snidely.

"We found the place where the initiation rite was supposed to happen," I say.

"Then let me go there," she demands.

"We think the place in the forest that you've been feeling drawn to leads to a Goa'uld laboratory. One that belonged to Nirti," I continue to explain.

"She killed everyone in my village," Cassie says in confusion.

"Yeah," I say painfully. "We think she was using your initiation ritual to conduct experiments on the children of your planet."

"Why?" she asks in concern.

"We don't know," I confess.

"It's possible that the retrovirus you're carrying was part of her experiment," Doc. Fraiser says coming around the corner. I kind of wanted to save my daughter from that knowledge.

"Wh-What was the experiment?" she asks.

"All we know so far is that this retrovirus is changing the way your cells generate electrical fields. So, your body is generating heat, and your EEG is showing that your brain activity is increasing—"she continues.

"You…don't know why, do you?" Cassie says cutting her off.

"No," Janet admits.

"And now she's gone," Cassie says.

"Yes, she is," I say touching her arm.

"So, we won't be able to stop it," Cassie insists.

"We didn't say that," I insist.

**Sam**

"Hey, Kiddo. It's Saturday," I say cheerfully entering Cassie's hospital room.

"So?" she asks.

"So, it's chess day."

"I know what's happening to me," she says absently.

"Oh, OK…What?" I ask.

"I'm changing…into something…and there's nothing you can do to stop it."

"Hmm…you know how your father and I feel when someone issues a challenge like that."

"You're not my parents. They died. When Nirti poisoned my village."

Ouch. "I know that. Jack knows that, too…but you don't have to keep telling us that."

"Why?"

"Because we love you, and we deserve better."

"That doesn't…change…anything."

"You're wrong about that."

"It's different. I'm…different now. I can do things…" she says holding out her hand. The knight flies from the box and into her hand.

"How did you do that?" I ask in shock.

"I just…thought it. I thought I wanted a knight, and it…flew into my hand. Jack calls 'em horses."

"Yeah, well, that's Jack for you," I say. She's not calling him dad, which is worrisome, but at least we're dealing with fond memories of him.

"He always pretends he's not as smart as he really is," she points out.

"You know, if you take a close look, they really are horses," I say. I've discovered that a lot of the things that Jack says to convince people he's stupid are actually quite wise. I think he mostly called them horses to make it easier for the kids to learn how to play.

"What do you see when you look at me now?" Cassie asks looking right at me.

"I see you…and until your head starts spinning around, and probably even then, I will still see…you," I say looking at her, and stroking her hair. She smiles at me, and then we start playing the chess game.

**Jack**

Cassie is lying in the hospital bed spinning a knight over and over in front of her.

"Cassandra? What are you doing?" I ask.

"It helps…to do this."

"How?"

She pauses to think for a moment before she answers, "It's almost like…the heat is leaving my body, and going into the chess piece. You haven't got a cure, have you?"

"No. We're still trying…"

"It's all right!" she shouts.

"No, it's not. We may still learn something from the bio samples that we brought back. There might be something there that'll help your body produce some antibodies," I say.

"I want this to happen," she says.

"Don't say that."

"It's going to happen anyway. I'm changing into something else. And I think the change is going to be a good thing."

"You're sick."

"You know that it's more than that now. I can feel a power inside me," she says, "It's only the beginning."

"Honey, we don't know if your body can take this."

"You think it's gonna kill me?" she asks.

"We're…worried about that possibility, yes," I say my heart breaking inside of me. I lost a kid once. And ever since we started this second family it seems like I've been a hair's breadth away from losing one kid or the other. I mean this is the second time that Cassie's almost died. And we almost lost Charlie too. And when Ser first came to us…she wasn't exactly healthy either. I mean most of Ser's health problems have been a far cry from life threatening, but…I just wish we could go a little while with everyone healthy and happy.

"I don't care!" she shouts.

"Well, you should!" I say with my voice nearly breaking, "Take it from a person whose been slamming against the limitations of the human body all his life. It has limitations."

"Maybe I'm not human anymore."

"Of course you are," I say shocked.

"Maybe dying is part of the transformation," she says.

Suddenly I go from sad to anger, "I don't care whether it is or not!"

The knight drops to the bed as she looks at me. I reach over to pick up the knight. It burns my hand and I pull away.

"I'm sorry," she mutters.

"Sometimes, when a person is sick, it's important for them to fight. I want you to fight this, OK?" She doesn't respond, "Honey, if I didn't fight I wouldn't still be here. You have to fight."

**Jack-Later**

"Hey," I say watching Cassie spin the knight in front of her.

"I hear you don't wanna sleep. You want some company?" I ask sitting down next to her.

"You wouldn't leave," Cassie says. What? She wants me to leave already? "When the Goa'uld planted the bomb inside me…you wouldn't leave. Even though your orders were to leave me there alone. You stayed with me."

"Yeah. Honey, I'm never going to leave you."

"Why didn't you leave me then? You barely knew me" she asks in confusion.

"I don't know…just an instinct," I say.

"That I was gonna be OK?"

I don't know exactly what the instinct was for, "Yeah, I think so."

"But you didn't know for sure," she presses.

"No," I confess.

"Well, that's how I feel about what's happening to me now. Do you understand?" she asks.

"Yeah, I think I do. You want me to stay with you for a while?" I ask.

"No, it's not time yet."

"Don't say that," I plead. I really don't want my daughter to die.

"Well, when it is…time…will you be here?" she asks.

I can give her that at least, "I promise."

"I think I can sleep now…for a little while."

"OK," I say giving her a kiss and getting up to leave.

**Sam-Later**

"It was a Goa'uld," Cassie whispers in horror.

"What?" I ask her in horror.

"I was asleep. I thought it was a nurse coming in to take my blood…but I did…sense its presence," she says looking around the room.

"I didn't sense anything," I say.

"It was after you left. At first there was no one there, but then, when it got closer, I saw someone," Cassie says shaken. I never should have left her alone.

I call into the intercom, "This is a Code 3 alert! We need Zats and TER's in Isolation room 4 now!"

"Are you all right?" Doctor Fraiser says.

"It ran away when I screamed," Cassie says.

"Apparently, there's a Goa'uld on base, Sir," I say as the General and Jack enters the room.

"What?!" Jack asks in horror.

"How's that possible?" the General asks.

"Nirti possesses the technology to become invisible," Teal'c says slowly, "and Cronos is dead. He was the system lord that was holding her prisoner."

"So she's out!" Jack said angrily.

"Go level by level, check everything…keep in radio contact. If you locate her, do not shoot to kill. Colonel?" Hammond commands.

"Staying here, Sir," Jack says.

**Jack**

There is a Goa'uld on base trying to hurt my daughter, and I'll be damned if I'm going to leave her alone. I shrug as she looks at me when everyone else has left, "I figured, you fought her off the first time. I'm safer here with you."

"She was here the whole time you've been back," Cassie says with a shutter.

"We'll find her," I assure her.

"She waited, because she wanted to know if her experiment worked."

"We don't know what she wants," I say.

"No. If, if the transformation were to kill me, she would have just let it happen. Don't you see?" Cassie says excitedly.

"Cassie, not now," I say.

"No! But it did work!" she demands.

"Cassandra!" I say.

"No…" she says looking away, "Look out!" she shouts looking at the window. I turn toward the window pointing my zat at it. The glass shadows. I dive over Cassie trying to protect her. An airman points his TER at her, and reveals her.

"Easy! We need her alive," I caution.

I turn in horror to see Cassie having a seizure.

"Cassie?" I plead, "Cassie! Don't do this! We need to get her out of here." Doctor Fraiser wheels her out of the room.

**Jack-Later**

"What's gonna happen to Cassandra?" I ask Nirti.

"What is her condition?" she asks.

"She's just lost consciousness."

"Then the end is very near."

"If she dies…so do you," I threaten.

"And what do you offer in return?" she asks.

"I don't think you're in any position to bargain," Hammond threatens.

"I am in the position to save the life of a child that you hold dear. Release me," she demands.

"We can't do that," Hammond.

"General?" I ask.

"With my invisibility device intact. I also require a sample of her blood," she demands.

"Absolutely not!" Hammond bellows.

"Those are my terms," she repeats.

"General, with all due respect, it's not like we're negotiating with terrorists," I tell the General when we are in the briefing room away from her ears.

"It's exactly that, Colonel. You're letting your emotions get in the way," he says.

"Yes, I am. Shouldn't you be?" I demand.

"Jack…" he says.

"Sir, up until yesterday, we didn't even know Nirti was still alive," I point out. "Now who cares if we let her go? What difference does it make in the grand scheme of things if there's one more Goa'uld running around?"

"If we were to allow Nirti to leave with a sample of Cassandra's blood, she could well succeed in her experiment to create a genetically advanced host, and become dangerously powerful!" he says.

"Sir, Major O'Neill has a gun pointed on the Goa'uld," an Airman informs us. I can't help it, but I am a little proud of my wife right now. We race

"Major O'Neill, stand down," Hammond commands.

"I can't do that, Sir. I don't have a choice," Sam says evenly. I know Sam. She has difficulty with the face to face killing. But to save her kid, I know she could.

"I can't…help Cassandra. She can," she says desperately.

"Doctor Fraiser, SG-1 has already convinced me to make a deal for Cassandra's life. This isn't necessary," Hammond says.

"Then you agree to my terms?" Nirti says excitedly.

"Just one…once you've cured Cassandra of her illness, you'll be free to go," he says.

"And how do I know you will honor this?" she presses.

"You have only my word."

"Not enough."

"Then I shall remind you that the woman holding the gun on you is Cassandra's mother," he says.

**Sam**

She's better. I'm sure of it now. I wasn't sure of it right after she was healed. It was only after her fever started to go down, and she started to move around more that I got more comfortable. Of course the fact that she can't move things with her mind or disrupt computers any more certainly doesn't hurt things.

"Hey, Janet! How's our patient?" I ask.

"Bored," Cassie complains as I sit down on the edge of the bed.

"She's fine; in fact you can take her home tonight."

"Uuhh…Dominic awaits," I tease.

"Stop it," she commands.

"Uh come on, that last kiss was impressive."

"Stop it!" she says smacking me with a pillow.

"Lights exploded overhead!" I said dramatically.

"Stop it!" she says blushing. I laugh, and she protests, "Aarrggh!" before laughing herself.

"It's Saturday," I tell her.

"OK. But…I won't be able to move the pieces around just by thinking about it…sorry," she says with a grin.

"Good. Then we're even," I say with a smile.


	35. Return

**Jack**

Two and a half months. I've been gone for two and a half months. I knew Sam was going to be furious the moment that I put my head in that machine. Risking my life to save the world. It's kind of what I do. But this was above and beyond the call of duty. And I knew she'd be furious.

But she wasn't. That made it worse. She was sure I was going to die, and she didn't want to ruin it by being angry. But I didn't die. I'm coming home. Even if it's after being frozen for two and a half months.

"Does Sam have the day off?" I ask her team when she doesn't greet us when they return from the rescue mission.

"Ah…I don't think so," Daniel stammers.

"What do you mean you don't think so?" I ask.

"Jack…Sam moved," I say.

My heart drops. Two and a half months, "moved on?" I gasp.

"Oh God no Jack! Definitely not! But she moved…to Nevada. She's working at Area 51."

"Cassie ok?" I ask. I know that Cassie was accepted to the University of Nevada. She hadn't made her final selection by the time that I left. But I figure if Sam moved to Nevada, it was probably to be close to our daughter

"She's fine. I mean…not great. She was devastated when you were frozen, and Janet's death hit her pretty hard. But she's ok…I mean Sam didn't move because she had to." But Daniel's face scrunches up strangely when he says it. It kind of makes me think there is something to the 'have to move' concept.

"Ok, so why did she move?"

"Jack, I'll get you your wife'sr wife's address, and a ticket to Las Vegas, and you can go ask her."

I nod. "But everyone's alright? Sam? Ser? Charlie? You and Teal'c?"

He nods.

**Sam**

The nicest thing about the move to Area 51 is the ability to take work home. I mean, I did it at the SGC. But it was riskier. It was all new technology, and we never knew what it did. Here we know the stuff is pretty safe. I don't feel like I'm putting Ser at risk. She's really all I have to consider when I take stuff home, because it really is just me and Ser now.

It's what I was afraid of seven years ago when I found out there was going to be a Ser. It's what Dad worried about for me. But it doesn't just suck, because I'm a single parent. That isn't as scary as I thought it was going to be.

But I miss my husband.

And I miss my daughter.

And I really wish my son was full instead of part time.

I feel so alone.

A hand goes absently to my stomach, "I know I won't be alone long, little one. You'll make mommy feel less blue?"

But I should feel lucky. I mean Cassie drives two hours from Las Vegas every weekend in order to make my house feel less empty, and the bus drops off my youngest child every single day. I'm lucky. But God, I want Jack back.

The door rings. There is a definite downside of being home in the middle of the day. If you watch TV or go shopping or answer the door you always end up feeling like you are a loser with no life.

I go to answer the door.

Oh my God it's Jack. I squeal and he laughs pulling me into a bear hug. He lifts me off the porch with the squeeze. Then he pulls me into a kiss which ends in a dip just like out wedding kiss.

"You could have called," I saw swatting him on the shoulder.

"I wanted to see you in person."

"I would have known over an hour ago," I say. I hold him at arm's length and examine him, "You ok?" He's examining me the same way. We both have the eyes of a soldier, and it seems like we are always prepared to field dress a wound.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thor thawed me out. We kicked a little replicator ass. Everything's fine. But why are you home in the middle of the day? Are you on medical leave?"

What did I tell you about answering the door in the middle of the day?

"I am working more from home these days," I say not answering the question. We both come into the house, and sit down on the couch.

He notices, but doesn't push it. "Ser alright?" I nod. "Cassie is ok?" he asks, and I feel like that is the real question.

"Yeah, she's wonderful. She's loving school."

"She and Dominic still together?" I ask.

"Yeah."

"You moved here to be with Cassie, what's wrong with her?" he asks nervously.

"I didn't move here for her," I say.

Suddenly his eyes go wide, "You needed her. I was thinking she needed you, but…" he says pulling me into another hug.

"I'm ok," I tell him, but I know the voice is going to convince neither of us.

"I'm sorry, Sam," I say softly.

"It's not your fault."

"It is…I knew it was risky."

"You can't say that, ok? Military wives. Military husbands. This is the deal that we make when we love someone in the uniform. You deal with it as much as I do, ok. No guilt. Our jobs are risky. That's how it works."

"I took more risk than I had to. And I guess I'll have to worry about you less now that you're…all scientist?"

"I'm not sure if that's permanent."

"It was a single mom choice?"

"I knew you were coming back. You've always come back. I mean, you had those three months on Endora, and you were gone for a while on that planet with Maybourne, and then there was the time that you were with Kanan and Ba'al."

"I could do without the run-down of times I deserted my family right now, Samantha."

"Uh-uh," I say firmly shaking my head, "You never deserted us Jack. Not once."

"Ok, so you knew I was coming back, but you just wanted to take a safe job until I did?" he asks.

"Sort of. I mean, I always intended to go back. Teal'c's renting the place. But…getting a science job didn't have anything to do with you. Well, it does, but not because you disappeared."

I take his hand, and put it on my stomach. He blinks.

"No," he says with an excited laugh.

"Oh yeah, we're going to have another kid."

"Oh, Sammy, how do you feel about this?" he asks concerned.

"Good. It's a baby," I say with a smile.

"Ah, I do remember you saying you didn't want more kids."

"Ok, but I do want this kid."

He laughs, "On our wedding day you were worried you lied to the priest about being open to more kids.

"Theoretical children are different from real ones. Once there is a kid, inside of me, and I know it. I don't know, the love starts right then. Or with our adopted kids. You see them, and you know they are ours. Ready or not, it doesn't matter as soon as the kid exists. I love this kid."

"Ok, good. And you…I don't want to say want it, but I mean…it's not messing up your life?"

"Of course it is, but I want it to mess up my life."

"Baby," he repeats rearranging his hand on my stomach. "So how…far along are you?"

"Two months and three weeks. Not long before you left."

He grins, and holds me for a bit. But suddenly he pulls away looking at me concerned, "Ok, question. If you are happy about the baby then why did we need Cass?"

"Cass!" I exclaim.

"What's wrong with Cass?" he asks with concern.

"Nothing, but her dad just came back from…from the limbo you were in." I say grabbing my cell phone.

"Hey, let her finish school," he mutters.

I glance at my watch, "She's done for the day. She's got one class tomorrow, but not until eleven. She's less than two hours away."

"She doesn't need to come."

"Oh, she's going to want to come. And…she comes down once a week anyway," I tell him.

"Would it be too shocking if I talked to her?" he asks.

"Let me start," I say. I dial the familiar number.

"Hi Mom, what's up?" her voice says easily.

"Honey…Whatcha doing right now?"

"Homework," she says slightly annoyed. I know it sounds a bit like nosy mother, but it really isn't.

"I just wanted to know…you're sitting down?" I ask.

"Oh God, he died?" she asks.

"No, no sweetie. He's here. Your dad is right here. And he's fine."

"What?" she asks in shock.

"Yeah, ah…the Norwegian doctor revived him," I say using a code word for Thor.

"Jack is there, he's fine? Dad's ok?" she asks.

"Yeah, he wants to talk to you, Honey, I just wanted to tell you first," I tell her.

Jack eagerly grabs the phone from me, "Oh, no you don't. You don't have to come up here. Ok, if you're going to come you had better wait until we're done talking little missy. Don't make me regret letting you get a cell phone. I promise, I am all right, perfectly healthy. Yeah, I'll be glad to see you too. Although you probably missed me more since I don't remember the last three months," Jack's face gets all disturbed, "No sweetie, that isn't anything to cry about! I was fine, no pain, no nothing! Ok, that's better. I'm going to have to inspect your dorm room before long. I want to see Ser tonight…Oh, and are you hinting about the new baby. Yeah, your mom told me, you're not letting any cats out of the bag. Happy as hell…I suppose I still shouldn't be swearing to you huh? Still too young to hear your Daddy swear. Nope girl, always Daddy never Dad. Yeah, I'm looking forward to seeing you. But honey, tell me what your major is."

I thought Jack would be thrilled. But I can tell he's not. She's in aerospace studies just like him.

"Ok, Honey, I'll see you in a couple of hours. You drive safe and slow." He rolls his eyes, "Yeah, I'm aware you've been driving for two years now. But I've been driving for thirty years, and I'm telling my daughter to be careful." A grin covers his face, "I love you too."

He hangs up the phone, "Aerospace Studies?" he asks.

"Jack...let's go pick Ser up from school. She'll be eager to see you, and this way she won't be on the bus for fifteen minutes."

"Ok, let's talk about this as we go."

He gets into the car and sits down. "Do you think she's joining the Air Force because of us or because it's what she really wants to," he says so quietly that I can barely hear him.

"She hasn't actually joined the Air force yet. She's doing her general requirements. She'll have to commit at the end of the year."

"I…I don't know if I can do it," I glance at him prompting more, "Worrying about you…it's about all I can take. I can't worry about her too. When you know what it's like…you're a little reluctant to subject yourself to that."

"I think Cassie wanting to join the Air Force might also be about Dominic," she says.

"What?" I ask staring at her.

"He joined up not long after he graduated. Enlisted. He finished up basic training, and they sent him to Iraq."

"Wow, how's she doing with that?" I ask in concern.

"Pretty good."

"But wait…if he's enlisted, and she's going to be an officer…" I say. Frat regs are things I dealt with enough in my career. I don't want my daughter to have to put up with that.

"I know."

"Have you told her that?"

"I'm a bit worried that she might…well, that that might decrease her motivation to finish college."

"Oh for crying out loud, she's going to finish college!" he explains.

"Jack she's eighteen. On her planet she'd have been considered an adult for three years already. We can't force her to do anything."

"She is too young to be giving up an education for this boy."

"Jack," I say taking a big sigh. This is hard for me to argue for, because I'm actually on Jack's side. I feel like she's throwing her future away, and I want better for her. "Jack…we can't stop this. If we try we might…" lose her, we might lose her.

He pauses, "I won't push it. But not because of that. I'm not going to push it because I don't want to be the overbearing father worthy of blame if her life doesn't turn out the way that she wanted it to be. But…we're not in danger of losing Cassie. I mean she threw a few temper tantrums when she was in her teens, sure. But this whole unconditional love thing…it's not just from a parent to a child."

I nod. But that last part. It's true. And unconditional love isn't just from a child to a parent either. It's also what Cassie feels for Dominic, and sooner or later we are going to have to deal with that fact.

"Ok, we'll have to head in to get her. She usually gets on the bus, so to prevent that we're going to have to be right outside the classroom when school lets out," I say parking in front of the school. I hope Jack doesn't mind a bit of a wait. If you wait until five minutes before school gets out the parking lot gets both crazy and dangerous.

He takes one look at the school and says, "Oy!"

"What?" I ask concerned why he doesn't approve of our daughter's school.

"You've got to be kidding me, 'Military Heights'. We just had the discussion that I'm not entirely pleased that our oldest daughter is following in our footsteps, and now you're telling me that our youngest is too."

Outside of the first grade classroom there are already a couple of parents waiting. One of the dads, Alex, a single dad who picks his son up every day, extends his hand to Jack.

"Hey, nice to meet you. Your kid go here?" but I can tell there is a bit of security guard role to the question. He wants to make sure that this guy has a legitimate purpose in the elementary school.

"Yeah, Ser," Jack says somewhat awkwardly. I'm not exactly sure when he last had his hand shaken, but I'm guessing it's been awhile.

"You're Serendipity's dad?" Alex asks with excitement, and the few moms standing around look more enthused. "This is the missing-in-action husband of yours Samantha?" Alex asks turning to me.

"Yeah, I got him back today without a scratch. Ser doesn't have a clue," I say. One of the moms, a stepmom actually, named Tiffany, gives off a squeal. She's in her early twenties. As far as I can tell, her life consists mostly of watching soap operas. She calls herself a "stay at home mom." but her stepson is twelve, and her stepdaughter is in first grade. I've never seen her do any volunteering in the classroom, and from what I've heard from her daughter (Ser's best friend) she doesn't appear to do any cooking or cleaning or checking homework or playing with the kids or really anything that you'd expect a stay-at-home mother to do.

Tiffany probably figures this is better than a soap opera.

"Wow, so does this mean we're losing the sunbeams that are your wife and daughter?" Alex asks.

Jack looks at me with concern. In our line of business "losing" means something different than it does to a normal person.

"I just told them that I might move when my husband came back from…I mean when you were found," I stammer.

"We're actually going to talk about that later. I got new orders…But if we don't like them I can always retire. Ah…and I've got a month off," he says.

"That's the kind of thing they do for heroes who almost lose their lives for their country," I say. I feel myself getting all choked up, and I look around to see the rest of the parents are right with me, and Jack is completely embarrassed. Also, I'm pretty sure Alex feels the spontaneous need to salute.

"Please, Sam. If they gave you a month off every time you risked your life for this nation you'd never have a day of work!" he exclaims. "I'm just glad I don't have to worry about you for a couple of months," Jack says putting an arm around me.

"You taking some time off?" Alex asks.

"No, but the military put her on light duty. And Sam's kind of obsessive about safety when she's pregnant."

The cat is out of the bag.

"Ah…" Jack stammers turning to me, "So you weren't telling people then?"

I shake my head, "It's ok, it was about time anyway. But…don't tell Ser like that, we'll do that later tonight ok?"

He nods.

"Congratulations," Margie says with a friendly smile. But I know her well enough to know there is already gossip starting. It would probably go something like this, 'her husband's been missing for goodness knows how long, and she had this pregnancy that she didn't want anyone to know about.' This kid is most assuredly Jack's, and the reason why I didn't tell people is quite different. A little silly really. I'm too old and too logical for superstitions, but that doesn't mean I don't have them. I almost miscarried Ser, and I didn't want to tell anyone until this baby was safe. I thought it would keep it safe.

"Yeah, almost three months," I say rubbing my belly.

I give him a grin, and Tiffany, Alec, and Liz add their congratulations to the fray. Just then a bell rings. Kids start pouring out of every classroom. Ser is one of the first ones out. She's eagerly talking to a boy that she refers to as her "bus friend."

"Ser," I say. She doesn't hear me.

"Dipity-doo," Jack says. I flinch. I'm not sure how well my daughter is going to take people in a new place knowing her 'baby' nickname. But I quickly realize it really isn't going to matter.

She turns in shock. In the time it takes her to register that this is indeed her father about eight kids slam into her.

"Daddy!" she screams and starts running down the hall. Startled children slam themselves against the walls knocking finger paintings pinned there to the floor.

"Hey, Ser, it's ok," Jack says somewhat startled by his daughter's emotion. He moves toward her and scoops her up.

"Daddy you were missing," she mutters burying herself into his neck.

He rocks her back and forth, "Oh, honey, they found me, I'm fine."

She pulls herself back, and presses her forehead against her father's. "Is it all ok in there now?" she asks.

"Yeah, that Norwegian doctor put everything right back in my brain where it belonged," he says quietly.

"You'd better set me down," Ser says gravely. "Mommy says I'm much too heavy to carry."

This was one of my ways of taking precautions with the baby without letting my daughter know there was a baby.

"Well, you aren't really too heavy. But you are too old. It's beneath your dignity to be carried. But there exceptions to every rule. And seeing your dad for the first time in three months is definitely an exception to this rule," Jack says. He holds her tight, "What do you say we go make the rest of this scene in the car."

"Ok," she says leaning trustingly against him.

"And your sister is on her way here," he adds.

She bounces in his arms almost causing him to drop her. After all she really is too big to be carried, "Cassie's coming?"

"Yeah," I say walking up next to them, "she wants to see her dad just like you do."

By now most of the crowd in the hall has sort of shrunk away.

We're almost to the door before I realize. "Ser? Where is your backpack?"

She makes a face, "I forgot it."

"Did it get lost in the shuffle?" Jack says looking back over his shoulder.

"It wouldn't be the first time Ser forgot her work," I say. My daughter has started first grade since Jack left. And there is a world of difference from kindergarten to first grade. Maybe I should have warned him. But I didn't quite know how to tell him. Yeah, glad you're home, and your daughter can't read.

"Ah…and are we forgetting our backpack, because there is hard, abrasive homework in it?" Jack asks. Ah…he knows.

"Abrasive?"

"Sandpaper is abrasive," he clarifies.

She giggles at that. "Reading is DEFINITELY abrasive," she says.

He sets her down, "get your bag baby girl."

**Jack**

I can tell that Sam's a little tired when we get home. I hope it's just from the emotional excitement. I don't want to think of her having walked around tired the whole time I was gone.

"You need a nap?" I ask.

"I'm good," Sam says.

"I've got supper," I say heading to the kitchen.

"Can I help?" Ser asks.

"I don't know, I thought there was some abrasive homework," I hedge.

"She gets a half hour break after school," Sam says. Then she begins to hedge, "I mean she has, we can change the rule."

"Sounds like a good one," I say. "Let's look what is for dinner then," I say turning to the fridge.

Half an hour later I've got supper well underway. I hear the door open, and someone walk into the hallway.

Cassie starts crying. "Hey," I say pulling her into a hug. "It's ok, I'm home."

"Dad," she says.

"It's ok." The hug goes on for so long that I eventually have to break to check on the food.

"Time to read your book," Sam cautions.

Ser makes a face, but without protest goes to get her backpack. She pulls out a thick glossy book.

"Can I read to Daddy?" she asks.

"I'm just supposed to make sure she reads it right?" I ask.

"Yeah, and prompt and prod," Sam says looking grateful for a night off.

"I'll watch supper," Cassie says going over to take a stand by the stove.

Ser opens the book to a brightly colored bookmark. She takes a deep breath.

"O…n…k" "s" I provide. She nods. "Once," she says firmly. "u…p…o…n" she glances at me. I smile and nod, even though I feel panic, "upon a t…i…m tim" "Time," I whisper, "a long, long time a…g…o."* She struggles with every word. I heap on the praise, but she seems pretty naturally determined. Twenty minutes later supper is done, and we've read less than a third of her reading assignment.

After dinner we finish off the story. It takes agonizing hours, and she gets so fatigued by the end. But she perseveres with a shockingly good attitude. It could have something to do with the fact that I'm here for the first time in months. But I hope not. No doubt she is going to have years of this type of thing in front of her.

When we're done, I read the same story to her, and then Sam, and then Cassie. She seems to enjoy that, so she hasn't become completely disenchanted with reading yet.

By the time we're done with all of that it's nearly bedtime. I'd like to send her off to play for a little bit, but I know we have to have a serious discussion first.

"Hey Ser, your mother and I want to tell you something," I say.

She comes and sits between us, "I know we gotta move," she says with a big sigh, "It's the cross of a military family. But Cassie thinks she isn't moving with us, and that's wrong, right, because she's my sister."

"Well Sweetie, I don't know if we're going to be moving or not yet. And if we do move, Cassie wouldn't move with us. She's your sister forever, but that doesn't mean she lives with you forever. When people grow up they get their own lives."

"But she already lives away from us," Ser whines, "It takes her hours to get here. If we moved so far away we'd never get to see her."

"Honey, Cassie is always going to be a part of our life. We might not get to see her as often, but we'll always see her sometimes," Sam adds.

"And we don't know if we're moving yet," I add. "But we were just talking about siblings, right. You like having siblings?"

"I don't know. What's a sibling?" Ser asks.

I smile, "A brother or a sister."

"Yeah, I like my brother and sister," Ser says confused by the question.

"Ever wished you had more?" Sam asks.

"I'm not getting a baby brother or sister, and that's ok," she says with a shrug.

I smile, "Ser, there is a baby sister or brother in your mom's stomach right now."

"What?" she asks looking horrified.

"What's wrong?" Sam asks.

"Why did you eat the baby?" she asks.

We all start laughing.

She looks alarmed.

"Honey, your mom didn't eat the baby. It's growing safe inside of her. It will stay there until he or she is old enough to be born and come live with us," I explain.

She crinkles up her forehead, "But…stomachs break things apart not build them together," Ser says thoughtfully.

"Right honey," Sam says proudly, "but the baby isn't actually growing in my stomach. It grows near my stomach. In a part of me made just for growing babies."

"Do all people have this?" she asks amazed.

"All girls," she explains.

"I could grow a baby?" she asks excitedly.

"Not until you're older," Sam says.

"And even when you can, it doesn't necessarily mean you SHOULD," I point out.

"But we just wanted you to know that we're having a baby," Sam says.

"When will the baby come?" Ser asks.

"Five months, about March," Sam says.

"Too long to wait," Ser says collapsing back against the chair in anguish.

"It will be alright," I say kissing her forehead, and ruffling her hair.

**Sam**

Jack and Cassie catch up while Ser takes her bath. Then he tucks her in, and then Cassie and Jack continue to talk until well past the time Cassie should have gone to bed. But, at long last, Jack comes and lies down next to me in bed.

"Jack."

"I didn't mean to wake you up," he whispers.

"I'm glad you did. I want to hear this job offer…if you aren't too tired."

"Nope, unless you are," he says looking worried at my stomach.

"I'm fine, Jack," I say.

"They're crazy enough to make me General," he says.

"General?" I ask in excitement.

"Yeah, they want me to work on the Odyssey project."

"They want you to be in charge of building a spaceship?"

He nods.

"And this spaceship is about thirty miles from this house."

"Not a bad commute," I say.

"If you want to go back to the SGC, SG-1 after the baby is born. I can retire."

"I like this…I think Nevada, is right for now."

"Well, our daughters will be pleased," he says.

"General," I whisper, "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too."

*While this could be the beginning of almost any children's book known to man it is specifically Tiki Tiki Tempo by Arlene Mose. The book is actually written at a high first grade reading level, and since it's the beginning of Ser's first grade year shouldn't be assigned. But as a nanny and a teacher, I've seen many years of discrepancies in the difficulty in assigned text and the ability of students. In fact, it's well known that the reading level of science/social studies text are on average two grade levels above the students they're targeted at.


	36. Nevada

**Jack**

I went to see Cassie's dorm room today. I met her roommate who I like tolerably well. When she went to class I went and bought her a couple of things I thought she could use. I'm not saying that Cass can't take care of herself. But…she could use a few nice dishes to make things with the microwave. And she didn't have enough pens and pencils.

When she came back from class we went to lunch. For the first time in my life I'm actually nervous about talking to my daughter.

"So Cassie, do you have a major?" I ask.

She pokes at her food, "Ah…I might be doing the ROTC Aerodynamics."

"Sam mentioned that. Ah…why?" I ask.

"Did she tell you…Dominic?"

"Yeah," I nod. "Deployments are…tough."

She bites her lip.

"You know joining the Air Force…it doesn't mean you get to be together."

"You told me a long time ago that the Air Force makes every effort to try to keep married couples together."

Yeah, that was when she was terrified the Air Force was going to separate Sam and I. "Right, but you aren't married. And…there are frat regs. If you went to ROTC, you'd be an officer like your mother and I. He's enlisted. It is always against the rules for an officer to date or marry enlisted personnel. And the Air Force does everything it can to make sure that a man can stay with his wife not in the Air Force. In fact, they are better at that…if you choose later to get married."

She nods, "I just…"

"And if this is about impressing your mother and me, you ought to know that I am forever and for always impressed with you. Nothing you could ever do could make you rise or fall in my esteem, because you're at the top."

She smiles, "I've been considering computational physics."

"Oh for crying out loud girl! You don't have to impress your mother either."

"I know," she says slowly, "It's just. There is a balance in the universe. A give and take. Equations. And they're beautiful, and they explain everything."

"Good," I say giving her a nod, "You found something that makes you happy. That's all I want for you."

Her smile turns grim, "So when are you guys shipping out under new orders? I mean you are all going together right? Sam and Ser have been without you for long enough."

"We're all staying for the foreseeable future," I say.

"Really?" she grins.

"Yeah, I guess you're stuck with the family."

"I'll take you," she says.

**Jack-later**

After my outing with Cassie I barely have time to make it home before picking up Ser from school. I've been picking her up ever since I came back from my frozen time about a week ago.

Sam's car is in the driveway, which is strange considering that she usually gets home around at six and it's not yet three.

Ser doesn't run into her room for the half hour of play like she usually does. She just stands there concerned saying, "Mommy?"

I hear a shuffle in our bedroom.

"Samantha?" I ask pushing open the door. I see her curled up on the bed in the fetal position. She has trains of tears down her face. She only gets like this when an alien takes over her body. She was supposed to be safe. She has to be safe until the baby is born.

I close the door behind me hoping Ser didn't see this. I walk over and bend down in her line of sight, "Sam, you have to tell me what happened."

She shakes her head.

"Sammy," I plead brushing the hair away from her face.

"We lost the baby," she says.

"No…we have to go to the hospital. Remember with Dipity we thought…"

But she is still shaking her head hard, "I've been to the hospital, Jack."

Oh God, "why didn't you call me?"

"I wanted you to have…a couple more hours where this hadn't happened."

I crawl into bed next to her, and hold her tight, "Are you ok?" stupid question. "I mean physically. Is everything ok?"

She nods slowly, "And I want another baby."

Oh Sam! "We're not deciding that yet. Give it a couple of weeks. But…maybe," I say.

"I'm empty. Hollow," she chokes out.

I kiss her forehead, and hold her closer before I even respond, "Samantha, you are the opposite of empty. You are so full of brains, and strength, and courage."

"Hollow," she insists, "I want my baby," she says crying.

I hold her for a while before I say, "I have to go take care of Ser. I'll be back."

"Jack," she pleads looking up at me with devastated eyes, "your son died. Another son died."

"Sam," I say mostly because I need to hear a voice.

"Jack…they said that it…hormones. My hormones were off. That's why we lost it."

"Not your fault."

She nods.

"Could they fix it?" I ask, "I mean with another kid."

"Less risk," she says.

"Healing device?" I ask.

She shrugs.

"Not your fault," I repeat. She nods. My fault. I'm cursed. Can't keep sons.

I give her another kiss on the forehead before I head out. Crap. Serendipity is staring in horror at the door.

"Daddy?" she says near tears as I leave the room, "What's wrong with Mommy?"

"Nothing honey, she's just sad," I say, "Let's sit down on the couch and talk for a little bit."

"Mommy was crying. Did something bad happen at work?" Ser asks.

"Honey, your mother lost the baby," I explain.

"How could she lose something that is inside of her?" she asks.

"I mean," oh this is hard, "the baby died."

Ser starts crying. "No sister? No brother?"

"Honey, not necessarily never. Just…not now."

She cries for awhile, and I hold her.

"I'm going to order a pizza for dinner. Then I'm going to check on Mommy, and we'll start reading."

"I can't read today," she says matter-of-factly.

"Ok, honey, I'll talk to your teacher tomorrow. You go play."

"No Daddy, I have to make Mommy feel better."

"That is very, very, sweet. But cheering up Mommy is not your job. And even if you cheered up Mommy the very best you can she still probably wouldn't be happy."

"I'm gonna go see."

"Ok," I say. I knock on our bedroom door. "Sam, your daughter wants to see you, you ok?" I ask.

Sam sits up in her bed, "Come on b…" she chokes on what I'm sure was going to be the words baby girl.

Ser pushes past me, and climbs up on the bed next to her. She wraps her arms around Sam. "I'm sorry Mommy. I'm sorry the baby is gone."

Sam holds her, and they both cry.

"Ok, Dipity," I say after twenty minutes, "let's leave Mommy."

They both look up at me in shock. "Everyone ok if she stays?" I ask. They both nod. "Ok, I'll go order the pizza."

After supper is on the way I make a call I've been dreading for awhile.

"Cassie, what are you doing?" I ask.

"Nothing, what's going on?" she asks calmly.

"Honey…we lost the baby," I stammer.

"What?" she asks in horror.

By the time I tell the whole story to her I'm emotionally exhausted.

I walk back into our bedroom. Sam is sitting on the bed, holding Ser with one hand, and fiddling with her hair with the other.

"Do you want her to leave?" I mouth to Sam.

She shakes her head no. It's amazing how much comfort a little kid can offer a grieving adult. I'm pretty sure her presence is the only reason Sam bothered to eat supper when it came.

**Jack-next day**

Sam called work and explained what happened and asked for the day off. Then I set off to drive Ser to school. We usually let her take the bus in the morning, but today I really need to explain why I didn't sign that she read her story.

Ser was in tears this morning begging me to sign it, but I explained to her about ethics, and how that wouldn't be right. I considered writing a note on the paper in lieu of signing it. But somehow, "my wife had a miscarriage so my daughter didn't do her homework," doesn't translate well to paper. It's best to do this in person.

So that is why I'm up and dressed and driving my daughter to school on a day when I would much rather stay in bed next to Sam, and pretend that none of the bad things in the world ever happened.

But if I did crawl into bed next to my wife, I probably wouldn't grieve with her. I'd probably try to be a big tough guy, and I know that isn't what she needs right now.

"Mrs. Maize," I say quietly as I enter her classroom, "Would it be possible for me to have a quick word in the hall?"

"Certainly Mr. O'Neill," she responds.

"Ah…Ser didn't do her reading last night…" I begin.

"I understand. I know that the work that Ser has been doing in order to keep up is far more than the other children have to do. However, if this becomes a regular occurrence…"

"Oh no, I've got no problem with…no, I want my daughter to do the same work as everyone else, even if she has to work a lot harder to do it. But…see yesterday my wife lost the baby," her eyes are overcome with the kind of sorrow that lets me know she probably experienced this first hand. Poor thing. "And I know that shouldn't have affected Ser, but it was her little sibling. And…you know she hates to see anyone upset, least of all her mother. And just being with her mom was doing more for her mother than I ever could, and I just couldn't drag her away to do her reading. It just didn't feel right."

"Of course not! I'll excuse Ser from her work for the night. And General O'Neill? I'm so sorry for you loss," he says.

And I almost break down in tears. Because I've been trying to keep it separated from me in my mind. Sam lost the baby. But I know….so did I.

I get home, and look at Sam curled in the bed for a little bit. She feels my eyes and turns toward me.

"Hold me?" I ask.

She holds out her arms to me. And we start grieving together.


	37. Baby

**Jack**

"Thanks for reading with her again," Sam says once we've sent Ser off to take her bath.

"I actually like it. I can't believe how willing to work she is. If I had to work that hard at anything I'm pretty sure I'd give up," I mutter.

Sam lets out a huge sigh.

"Something wrong?" I ask.

"I want to go back to school," she mutters.

I raise an eyebrow.

"I'm in control of the science division here. Over four hundred people. It's a big enough command to make Lieutenant Colonel."*

"But you need Air Command and Staff College," I say.

"They are letting me do it via correspondence," she says, "I wouldn't consider it if it meant another move after we just moved."

"Ten months, less than a year. I think you should do it."

"If I'm going to school in the night you're going to have to do even more with Ser."

"And get to see my wife less, but I'm willing to do it. I mean…if you actually want to do this?"

She raises her eyebrow.

"I just mean…you don't actually have to do this if you don't want to. If you want Lieutenant Colonel, Colonel, and General great. But Sam…if you don't want to…you know I like you just as you are, and as whoever you want to become."

"I think I want this…but I feel guilty. I want to be there for Ser, and I…want to try for another baby," she mutters.

We haven't talked about that since the day we lost the baby. Almost a month ago now. I nod. "I want that too," I say taking her hand.

She flashes me a huge smile. "And I feel like this…is too selfish."

"This is the reason people get married before they have kids…" I begin.

"Or in our case significantly after," she breaks in.

"Right, but the point is we are a team. You can take a little time for yourself, and I can pick up the slack. And when I've needed you to do the same you've been there. Teamwork. That's how this works."

"So…"

"My wife's going back to school."

"And baby?"

"Well, I think we should wait until our daughter's in bed to start on that one," I tease.

Said daughter enters the room just then, "Who's tucking me in?"

"I am," Sam says, "Turns out I won't be doing that for awhile."

"Where is Mommy going?" our daughter asks panicked. She goes to a school where most of the kids are from military families. And she's perhaps a bit too familiar with the concept of deployment.

"Honey, mom's not going anywhere. She's going to start doing school so she'll be busier in the nights."

"I'm sorry," Sam says looking at Ser like her heart is breaking.

"It's ok Mommy, I'm busy in the nights too. There is nothing wrong with hard work," she says.

"God I love my family," Sam says picking her up and carrying her off to the room.

**Sam**

My daughter loves to do her homework "with me". She sits cross legged on the kitchen chair. She twists pencils into her hair while holding the book with her elbow. She reads her stories aloud to Jack. She's gotten much better at her reading lately. So good in fact that sometimes she reads the stories twice in a single night.

We tell her to stop when she's read it once. We tell her not to work so hard. But she's addicted to hard work.

Jack says she's like me, but really she's like Jack.

Her first grade year is almost over. My degree is almost over. And I'm not pregnant. Twice by accident, but now that we actually decided to have a kid? Nothing.

Jack looks up at me from across the kitchen table, "Sam" he says with sympathy.

No way could he read my mind.

"It's gonna happen," he says.

"It's official, we share a brain," I say.

"What's gonna happen?" Ser asks.

"Daddy's gonna have some ice cream while you read that story," he says getting up, and pressing a kiss to my forehead on his way to the freezer.

**Cassie**

God I hate throwing up. I suppose it's a part of the typical college experience. But I'm not a typical college student. And I'm not throwing up for the typical reason. I don't drink. I tried it once (Dad would kill me if he knew, I was only 17 then), but I think it's one of those alien things. I didn't get buzzed. Just got a powerful headache and the dizzies. Not exactly something I wanted to repeat.

And now I'm throwing up for the third time this week. And I think I know what it means. A month ago Dominic got to come home for a week of leave.

We used protection-most of the time. Let's just say there were a lot of times, and only so many condoms come in a box. Even the mega sized economy box.

Hey, I hadn't seen my husband in SIX months!

Yeah, husband. I've been trying to work up the nerve to tell my parents that Dominic and I got married before he left for Iraq the first time. It wasn't the real marriage. I mean we did it because…on Hanka you don't have sex before you get married. And because there was no question in either of our minds that we are going to be together forever. We've known for years that we were going to get married.

But we planned on having a big wedding later-lace, music, guests. I'm still hoping for that…maybe after college.

But we had a wedding before he left, at the courthouse. It was not my dream wedding. Just the two of us in front of a stranger. Sand in my shoes, my hair messed by a make-out session while we waited, and jeans and a t-shirt.

All we wanted was the sheet of paper that said we were together forever, no matter what.

It seemed like enough.

But now, as I sit on the floor of the bathroom I wish we'd been showier. I wish I'd told my parents the next day. I wish his parents knew. I wish…

I wish my mom hadn't lost a baby seven months ago. I wish they were able to have the baby they want so bad.

How the hell am I supposed to tell them? And what is Dominic going to say?

We want kids. After I finish college we were going to have two, a couple years apart. I'd stay home for four or five years, and then I would start work. That's how it was supposed to work.

I feel the nausea rising again. Ah…I'm going to think about this when I feel better.

**Student Health Center Nurse****

Ah…what's my guess on this one? By the way she's slinking, but in a straight, sober line in here it's got to be one of three things. Either she thinks her roommate is dying of alcohol poisoning in her room, she thinks I'm an easy way to get high, or she wants a morning after pill.

I really hate college students. I need another job.

"Hey," she says carefully shutting the door.

"What seems to be the problem?" I ask.

"Ah…I think…you do pregnancy tests here, right?" she asks.

"Yep, I'll get that lined up with an STD test, too," I mutter.

"No…that won't be necessary, just a pregnancy test."

Do they even teach health in the schools anymore? I tell you the kids who come to this college just keep getting dumber and dumber, "If you could be pregnant, you could have an STD."

"Not in this case," she says looking offended. They never think of themselves as slutty as they really are. But if it acts, talks, thinks, and dresses like a slut…actually this one has on a lot of clothes for a slut.

"Honey, STD's are easier to catch than pregnancy. You don't even need…"

"My HUSBAND and I were both virgins when we had sex. We've been together since we were fifteen. So I really don't need to be checked for STD's. I do however, want to find out if I'm going to be a mother."

"Your husband?" I ask.

"Yeah," she says but she still looks worried.

"Ok, let's do this test," I say.

She closes her eyes when I draw the blood, but she doesn't flinch. Courage amongst fear, and I think that is pretty much how she feels about the baby.

"Planned baby?" I ask.

She shakes her head.

"How old are you?"

"Nineteen."

"Freshman?"

She nods.

"Does your husband go to school here too?"

"Ah…Air Force…Iraq," she mutters.

"If this is positive. You have options," I tell her.

"Seriously? First you judge me for sleeping around, and now you want to kill my kid. I really should have gone to the gas station and done this test myself. Free or not free, you suck," she says standing up and heading toward the door.

"A pregnancy test is just the beginning," I say, "You need good prenatal care, if not you're putting your child at risk."

When I was in school, before I graduated, and got stuck in this hellhole of a job, I worked a rotation at a pediatrician's office. Those moms would do anything if you told them it was in their kid's best interests.

She sits down and nods her head.

**Cassie**

Pregnant.

I walked around campus for an hour after I got the news.

But I figure I'd better get on with the list that bitch of a nurse gave me. I mean I may not like her, but she does know more about pregnancy than I do.

What worries me the most is that no one really knows about what happens when a Hankan person has a baby with an Earth human. I really hope my baby is going to be ok.

Prenatal vitamins, appointment for an ultrasound…

I need my Mommy. Now.

**Jack**

"Ah…mom there?" Cassie asks tentatively on the phone.

"No, she's at the library studying," I say.

"Okay, when's she getting home?" she asks in a voice that sounds really strange, and has me worried.

"Honey, are you ok?" I ask.

"I just…you know what, have her call me when she gets home."

When did I stop being good enough for my daughter?

"Just tell me, are you ok?" I ask.

"Dad I'm…pregnant."

What?

"Dad?"

"Do you want to talk for a bit, or should I drive down to see you right now?"

"You don't have to do that," she says with a bit of a laugh. But it's a nervous laugh.

"Are you ok?" I ask.

"I'm freaking out a little."

"Whose the…I mean…" I stammer. God, what if she doesn't know. I really don't want to know if my daughter doesn't know who the father of her baby is.

"My husband," Cassie says.

"What?" I ask.

"You asked who the father was…my husband."

She had a shotgun wedding before she even told us. If she told us…we would have told her she didn't have to. We could have taken care of her.

"And your husband's name is?" I prompt.

"Dominic," she says like this should be old news to me.

"He's in Iraq, how did you get married?"

"We got married before he left."

Not a shotgun wedding. But why didn't she tell us? "You've been married for seven months?"

"Yeah."

"Why was it a secret?"

"I just thought…we wanted to do another wedding. When he was home safe, and we were a little older, done with school."

"Then why get married now?"

"I loved him, and I didn't want to…" she takes a deep breath, "If he died. I wanted to be his widow, not just a girlfriend."

Better reason than hormones.

"You should have told us Cassie."

"I know, Dad."

"So, this baby is the result of his leave a month back?"

"Yeah."

"What did Dominic say?"

"I didn't tell him yet. I just found out….I…"

"Needed your mom, sorry you have to put up with Dad."

"No, you're…helping," she mutters.

"Ok, honey, so what are your plans?"

"I don't know. The plans for kids were four years down the road when I was going to take a few years off after school to raise the kid. I always wanted to…spend a lot of time with the kid."

"You can do that while going to school, if you want to. But if you don't want to…I mean take a couple years off. Come back to live with us. Go back to school when you're ready. Raising kids is important business."

"Dad, you can't…" she starts to interrupt.

"You're our daughter Cass, and you can do what you want. But if you want to, stay in school. You're still a good mother. I mean Sam went back to work after Ser was born, and she's still a good mother right?"

"She's an amazing mother," Cassie says, "I just…can't do long term right now."

A worry rises up in my heart, and I know I shouldn't even mention it, but…. "Cassie, you've been sick?"

"You have no idea Dad. I think I've thrown-up stuff I ate back on Hanka."

"Good."

"Thanks dad."

"No…if you're sick, you're less likely to miscarry."

Silence. Maybe I offended her. Or maybe that doesn't sound bad to her. "I…geez this whole thing is scary."

"It's ok, honey, everything will be fine. I really want to give you a hug right now."

"I really want to get a hug, right now."

"You want me to drive down tomorrow?"

"No, I have a really busy day. Huge chemistry test…then I'm going to tell Dominic, and I'm sure that is going to take a while. But…I want to come home this weekend."

"Of course! If you didn't come here, I'd come to you. You know your mom has a whole bunch pregnancy books. Do you want to get them? I mean they'll probably freak you out even more, but…"

"No, I need to figure out what I'm doing."

"You know Cass…no one knows what they're doing. When Sam first got pregnant, she thought she was going to be a horrible mom. And she's amazing. And I know you will be too. I've seen you with your little sister. But also, you don't have to do this…not yet. If you want to wait until a planned baby. You know your mother and I…we want another baby, and…"

I hear a sob.

"Honey?"

"I can't…I love you more than I could ever tell you. But I can't…"

"No, honey, it wasn't like that…I would never take a baby that's wanted. But if you didn't want a baby…right now, it would be a way of keeping it safe. And you'd still see it. But honey we would never in a million years ask you to make a sacrifice for us. It was supposed to be an offer."

"Yeah, well, I won't object to some grandparent time."

"That's good, because I expect lot of grandparent time. Constant grandparent time."

She laughs.

"I should probably go…"

"Right, studying…Well, I love you so much. And congratulations….on the kid and the wedding. I know I'm a little late on the wedding."

"Not your fault, and I'm sorry…I was going to tell you before the real wedding. Now…I'll probably never have a 'real' wedding."

**Sam**

I got home later than I usually do, and I fully expected Jack to be asleep, but he's sitting on the couch.

"Huge news, huge, overdue news!" he exclaims.

"Everything ok?" I ask.

"Ah…I think so. I think it is good news."

"What?"

"Sit."

"Your daughter's married."

"What?"

"Cassie married Dominic, before he left."

"Like a year ago?"

"Seven months."

"Why didn't she tell us?"

"They were going to have a big public wedding later. Years later."

"So why did she tell you now?"

"She's pregnant."

"I'm going to be a grandma?" I ask in horror, "Jack, we're trying to have another kid, and I'm going to be a grandma!"

"Sam," he says with concern.

"No, I mean…I don't know why we're still trying to have a baby. It's been months, and I just…I should have realized it isn't going to happen. And…God, Cassie is having a kid…" How horrible of me to focus on myself when my daughter is having the huge life change.

"Yeah."

"Is she ok?"

"Yeah…fine."

"I mean emotionally. How does she feel about this?"

"She's…conflicted. Actually she reminds me a lot of the way you felt when you first got pregnant with Ser. Excited, and scared, and trying to learn everything about how to be a parent in just one day."

"I'll call her tomorrow," I say nervously, "Jack…maybe we should give up."

"On what?" he asks.

I touch my stomach. He looks away quickly, and I know…this waiting, trying, it's killing him just as much as it's killing me.

"You want to stop trying to have a baby."

"I don't want to go back on the pill. Just…not try. Stop keeping track of when I'm ovulating. Not hope and be disappointed. I mean we're going to be grandparents. This is sort of ridiculous."

"We're not that old Sam…but I get it. I agree with it."

I bite my lip.

"Grandma," he says.

"Give me a little time to adjust before you go throwing that one around Gramps."

"Ouch! Gramps is way worse that Grandpa!" he protests.

**Cassie**

Dominic calls me every Thursday, but as the hours ticked by I decided that the one time I really, really needed him to call was going to be the one time he DIDN'T.

Then the phone rings.

"Dominic?" I ask.

"Yeah, sorry I'm late. But I still get to talk just as long. You ok? You sounded kind of panicked."

"I'm not panicked," I say taking a deep breath.

"Ok, well what's going on?"

"I'm having a baby," I blurt.

"We are?" he asks sounding surprised, pleasantly surprised.

"Yeah…from your last leave. I just found out."

"And you're panicking. What can I do to help? First of all you're going to get that joint account you were so against after we first got married. I know you want to be independent. But your scholarships and loans are not going to pay for baby stuff. And you're going to have to get a different place. Babies are not allowed in the dorms, and…"

I feel like my head is going to explode, "Dominic!" I say more loudly than I meant to.

"Yeah?" he says softly on the other end of the phone.

"This is the problem. Ever since I've found out about the baby it's been lists of stuff I have to do. The nurse, my parents, you…I know I have to do all that stuff. But…I don't want to do them right now. You know?"

"You want to get excited about the fact that we're having a baby," he says.

"Yeah."

"Cassie, we're having a baby. You and me, all mixed together, and it's going to have tiny fingers, and little toes all curled up on its feet."

"And that new baby smell," I add remembering Ser when she first came home.

"Mmm…and it's going to giggle. Baby's giggles are pretty much the most amazing thing ever."

"And we'll hold it when we go to sleep, and it will give us that happy tired feeling."

"And we are going to love that baby to pieces."

"I already do, Dominic, I already do."

*In the show Sam's promotion to Lieutenant Colonel was somewhat unrealistic. She just didn't have the command experience. Here I have her in control of a bunch of scientists to make it more realistic. I know it's pretty anal to strive to be MORE accurate than the show but that's me.

**Sadly this nurse is based on a real health care professional I once endured. She was pretty convinced that every ailment you came in with was either caused by promiscuity or drug use. It was so insulting!


	38. Threads

**Sam**

"Dad!" I exclaim giving him a big hug as he's still sitting in the car. Apparently he decided to drive in from the gate this time.

"Hey, Colonel O'Neill, congratulations for the promotion!" he says giving me a hug, "Charlie is a little gate lagged," he says indicate the lanky teenager in the back seat, "So how are the kids? How is Ser's reading?"

"Ah better, still have a ways to go."

"And Cassie?"

Wow, so much to tell on that front. "Ah…she and Dominic got married."

He shakes his head. "You let her get married?" Not exactly, "What about her career?"

Oh no, he's reminding me of the way he used to be with me. Especially the way he was, before the Tok'ra cured his cancer, "Dad, the last time you talked like this…"

"I'm sorry, kiddo. We both are."

"About what? What's going on?" I say with concern.

"I don't want to ruin everything like this. Right before Christmas."

"Dad?" I ask.

"It's Selmak. He's dying."

"Oh, my God, I'm sorry!" I says.

"It's okay. He's okay. He led a pretty full life," Dad says with a laugh.

"I didn't live with Jolinar that long, but I think I have some idea of what it's like," I say softly.

"Well, this is a little different, Sam. As you know, when a Tok'ra symbiote dies, they can prevent their host from dying, as Jolinar did with you. The problem is, that last selfless act requires a certain amount of energy and a conscious effort."

"What are you saying?" I ask with panic rising up in me.

"By all rights, Selmak should have been dead weeks ago. I wouldn't let him go. I thought we needed him, that I needed him to help stop the Replicators."

"Dad?" I ask panic turning to despair.

"He hung on as long as he could. Then he slipped into a coma just after we activated the weapon on Dakara."

"You've known all this time, since then?" I ask. That was weeks ago. I'd already read through all the data we got from the machine. And the SGC usually tires to hold onto that stuff for as long as it can before it gives it over to Area 51. Although, they don't hold it nearly as long as I did when I worked there.

I thought my relationship with my father was past the point where we kept secrets from one another. Where we try to protect one another from pain.

"I didn't want to spoil your Christmas. I thought we could make it.

"We?" I ask.

"He's barely alive. I'm gonna die with him, Sam."

No. I start to cry.

"I can't believe there's nothing they can do. They can remove a Goa'uld. In the last few years you've almost perfected the process of saving the host."

"That process instantly kills the symbiote before it releases toxins. It's too late for that, Sam. I'm sorry. I hate to do this to you, but I should have been dead four years ago. Since then, I've been all over the galaxy. I've done things most men never dream of. I just want to make sure…you're happy right Sam?"

I nod my head. "You're a great-grandpa."

"Thanks Sam, and you're a great mom."

"No, I mean…you're a great-grandpa. Cassie's pregnant."

"Hence the wedding," he says with eyebrows raised.

"Ah…the wedding came first. They didn't tell us, because they were going to have big wedding later on."

**Jack**

Sam is sitting up in the observation room of the SGC looking down at Jacob. It's been a long time since we were back in Colorado Springs, and his has got to be the worse reason for it. Jacob is dying. There is a Tok'ra on each side, saying goodbye. I sit down next to her.

"You okay?"

She leans her head against my shoulder, "Actually, I'm fine. Good even, strange as that sounds. I thought I lost him four years ago. Since then we've been closer than we ever were my whole life. In a way, Selmak gave me the father I never thought I'd know."

"Com'ere," I say pulling her close.

"Thank you, Jack."

"For what?" I ask.

"For being here for me."

I swirl the ring on her finger, "Always."

"Jack!" she says looking up and starring at me with big round surprised eyes.

"Yeah?" he says warily.

"On your trip to P3X-577 you mentioned there was a sarcophagus there."

"Yep, guarded by 9 million Jaffa, Sam."

"Cronus's Jaffa."

"Yeah," I say completely not getting why it would matter who it was that guarded it.

"Cronus is dead, Jack."

"I'm sure someone took the sarcophagus," he says.

"Maybe not," she says.

It's desperate, but that's kind of par for the course when your parent is dying, and Jacob might actually have a chance with her crazy plan.

**Jack-Later**

My arms are aching from dragging that stupid sarcophagus all over the planet, but I don't put it down when we get through the gate.

"Pick up the pace men, we're on the homestretch," I yell to SG3 who went through the gate with me.

We race into the infirmary, and Sam is sitting there with tears running down her eyes. "You're too late Jack."

"Too late," I say helping them set the sarcophagus down before going to my wife, "What do you mean?"

"He's dead Jack," she says, and I think by making her say it I broke her heart.

"Kinda the point of me going to another planet to fight aliens honey, to bring him back from the dead," I say, "How long ago…"

"Just a few minutes, you were just a few minutes late," she says.

"Come on Jacob," I say lifting him up with the help of a couple marines from SG-3. We put him in the sarcophagus, and as soon as my hands are free I pull my wife close to my chest. She's sobbing. "Hey, honey."

It's the longest minutes of my entire life. But pretty soon that thing opens itself up, and Jacob emerges from the fog coughing.

"Dad!" Sam says.

He smiles at her.

"Are you ok?"

"Fine."

She starts crying again.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Jacob asks in concern.

"You were just dead," she says horror.

He pulls her into a hug, and looks over her head at me with a frightened expression.

"Sarcophagus," I offer with a shrug.

Suddenly Jacob's eyes get big, "Get me the healing device," he says to a nurse.

"What's wrong Dad?" Sam asks panicked.

"Nothing, just a precaution honey, your hormones are a little off. I just want to make sure you don't lose another baby."

"Baby?" I say.

"You guys didn't know?" Jacob asks looking between us and grinning.

"How did you know?" Sam asks her father.

"It's a Tok'ra thing…or I guess a former Tok'ra thing. We kind of have a life signs detector, and I felt two life signs when you hugged me."

A nurse hands Jacob the hand device.

"So if you do it, this baby's…going to be all right?" Sam asks nervously.

"I can't guarantee it, a lot can happen, but at the very least you're not going to lose this baby for the same reason you lost the last one," he says lowering the light onto the lower part of her body.

"Thanks dad," she says full of sincerity.

"Hey, the least I can do for the people who saved my life," he says.

"Welcome back Jacob," I say clasping him on the back. "And we're having a baby," I say moving in to give my wife a kiss. She always smiles into her kisses, but this smile is so big that only the tips of her lips touch mine. My lips turn into a grin to meet hers.

Then I realize. I'm going to have a grandkid older than one of my kids.


	39. Years go by

I want to thank Bruised Reed for being my beta on this story so far. She's done an amazing job, making me a much better writer. And I want to thank AnneMary for agreeing to be my new beta, and for her work on this chapter and the last one. A good beta is truly worth her weight in gold.

**Cassie-A month later**

Dominic! There he is! Home. Safe. Finally.

"Cassandra!" he says running toward me. He gives me a long kiss. "You look amazing!" he says touching my stomach.

"I look fat," I correct him. I'm at the stage in pregnancy when no one is quite sure if you're pregnant or fat.

"Gorgeous," he says looking into my eyes, and putting an arm around the small of my back, "Hey baby, it's your Daddy talking. I'm here now. Daddy's here," he says bending closer to my belly.

"I…have a lasagna that I just have to pop into the oven."

He narrows his eyes at me, "You know you don't have to do the whole domestic thing."

"I know, but I actually love it. I want to do the whole school thing too, but…I really like cooking, and decorating the house. And I've been working a couple hours a week at a day care, and I love that too."

"Good," he grins, "So you ready to go home?" he asks.

"Yeah," I say, and it feels like home, not just 'the house' but really home for the first time since I bought it. We're a family.

**Sam-two years later**

"What are you doing Jay?" I ask my son. His real name is Jacob Jonathan O'Neill, but when he was born Dominic declared him "J". My son-in-law is the only one in our family that is powerful enough to re-name people.

"Ememememememememememememem," he says bouncing near the window.

"How do you always know when your niece is coming?" I ask him.

"Emememe," he keeps repeating.

A car pulls up, and Jay pulls himself up to the window, and starts banging on the glass. "Emememe."

"Hey," Cassie says opening the door, "We're here for the play date."

Emma Samantha Tompson, my granddaughter tires to squirm out of her arms. "Hey, you have to say hi to Grandma, before you can go play with your uncle," I say taking her from Cassie's arms.

"G'ama," she says giving me a quick hug. I sit her down, and she toddles over to Jay. I'm not sure why they are always so excited to see one another. They don't really play with each other so much as they play near each other. But they are happy, so I guess it doesn't really matter.

"How are you Cassie?" I ask.

"Good," she says sitting down.

"You don't really sound like it," I tell her.

"I'm tired," she admits.

"School?" I ask.

"Yeah, Dominic's got a really busy semester this year. So he hasn't been able help out as he usually does. And with Emma and school," she shrugs.

My son-in-law is working on getting a commission. He's in the ROTC program at the same college as Cassie. Cassie's physics major.

"Sorry babe," I say, "Want me to keep Em for a couple days?"

"No," she says laughing at her daughter. Emma built a tower out of blocks, and knocked it down herself, but then she looked around as if she was trying to find out who knocked it down.

"You happy, Cass?" I ask.

"Yeah, really happy. You, mom?"

I nod.

**Jack -three years later**

"General O'Neill, nice to see you is your wife coming in for this meeting?" Ser's teacher asks.

"Ah no, she's deployed again." Deployed on an alien spaceship, but I'm not going to add that in. Two years ago when Sam made full bird Colonel and got command of the Hammond. I helped build a space ship, and my wife flies it. Quite the team we are.

When Sam went first got deployed on the Hammond we moved to D.C. They were dumb enough to give me another star and a job at the Pentagon.

"I see. Well, we can go ahead and get this meeting started now," the teacher says.

"I know Ser's grades haven't been the best lately. The transition to middle school has been really hard for her. But we're trying. We're working on it at home."

"How much time would you say she spends on homework per night?"

"Oh she's a hard worker. We work on homework four or five hours a night."

"General, she shouldn't have to work that hard," one of the other teachers says.

"I'm not quite sure…you're telling me my kid should slack off?" I stammer.

"Sir, we'd like to test Serendipity for a learning disability*."

"Ah…like special education. You want to put her in another class?" I ask. My head hurts. I mean Ser's always had trouble in school. But it got better, she was doing really well for a long time. And we always got through it. No matter how hard it was we always got through it.

"Well placement would be determined after we decided if she had a disability. But most students with learning disabilities go to all of their classes. She would probably have modified assignments, and her tests would most likely be read to her."

"Disability?" I stammer.

One of the teachers does a nerves glance at the principal. I feel a bit ambushed, and I wish they held this meeting a week ago when Sam was on leave so she could make it.

"We just want her to get some extra help," the teacher offers.

"We…her mother and I have really done all we can. We took her to speech. We checked the homework. We got her tutoring and computer program in the summer. I don't understand…."

"Sir, all those things are probably why she's done so well until now. But it shouldn't be this hard for her. Life shouldn't be this hard."

"I know, I've told her that. She…likes to work all the time. My wife and I joke she has an addiction to hard work."

"Sir, it is up to you. We can't test her unless you sign, but we think it's what's best for her."

"Can I…talk this over with my wife," and daughter I add in my head, "and get back to you?"

"Of course," they say.

**Ser**

"Hey Dad," I say overly cheerfully as I slide into the car after school. Dad looks really grim, and he just came from a meeting with my teachers.

"Did you have a good day?" he asks.

"Look, if Mrs. Olson told you about the time I was late on my health assignment I swear I thought it was due the next day. I got it to her the next morning, and those things are long, you've seen them!"

"Honey, you were not in trouble."

"Ok, well in my experience when you parents get called in to a meeting with your teachers it usually means you're in trouble."

"No, they, they think you have to work too hard," he says looking at me.

"What?"

"Ok, I'm not good at breaking the news gently. So I'm just going to tell you. I'm probably not even supposed to tell you, but hell it's your life." Did my dad just swear? "They want to test you for a learning disability."

I don't say anything, and Dad looks at me nervously, "Honey, they can't do it if I don't sign the form. So…I mean this is just if it's something we want."

"You mean I'm not just dumb," I say in shock.

"What honey? Of course you're not dumb!" he explains with such sincerity that I have to grin.

"I mean…I know that everyone else got it in way less time. I mean it was easy for them, and I struggled, and fought, and it was a battle for me, at every single turn. And I just thought it was because I'm dumb. But if I had a learning disability…I mean you just have those. They're not your fault."

"Honey, you are so far from dumb. You're brilliant. I mean the other day when we were watching the news and you came up with how prisons should work…your solution was better than anything we have out there now. And when you and your mom are working on her bike: brilliant. And that thing you built with your brother's lego's is truly impressive."

"None of that matters," I mutter.

"It does honey. Maybe not now. Now all that matters is books smarts, and ability to make friends, which by the way is another strength of yours. But that stuff is going to matter down the road."

I nod.

"So… you're going to be tested?" he asks.

"Unless… you'd be embarrassed?" I ask.

"God no sweetheart, you could never embarrass me. I am SO proud of you," he says.

**Sam**

It's the end of my check in with earth and the SGC, and it's time for a small chat with my husband. Something they are kind enough to allow me whenever he happens to be in Colorado Springs. I'm not sure why he's there this time, but I'm not going to object to it.

"Hey, Jack, how are the kids?" I ask.

"Good. Ah…Sam, I hope you don't mind. I wanted to ask you first, but you are out of reach."

"Honey, I trust your judgment, just tell me what is going on."

"Ah…The school tested Ser, and she has a learning disability. I've been doing a lot of research on that topic. I mean since I let them test her. And God it sounds like her. Creative, problem solving, hard worker, understands stuff, verbal as all get out, great memory, and…just needs to see more examples than anyone else to get it. Just can't glean the information from reading."

"What are they going to do with her Jack?" I interrupt feeling pretty apprehensive.

"She's going into another study hall, with fewer kids. They are going to give her sheets that tell her what to study for tests, and read her tests to her. It should make it easier for her. Easier, and she'll still learn."

"College," I demand and it seems to abrupt to my own ears.

"Yeah, I asked that one at the meeting too," hopefully he was smoother than I was; "They assured me that this wouldn't hurt her chance at college. That there would be these types of things available for her at college as well."

"How did Ser take it?"

"She's thrilled. She thought she was dumb all those years."

"What?" I ask horrified. My kid…God, how did my kid not know how amazing she is? Telling your kid how amazing she is kind of a parent's job, and apparently I've been failing at it.

"It's ok, she gets it now."

"I miss earth sometimes," I mutter.

"Yeah, this old earth just isn't the same without you there."

*Alright now we're done with the Serendipity consequence road. Sam has threatened miscarriage which results in Ser being born early which results in Ser having a weakened immune system which results in ear infections temporary hearing loss which results in small vocabulary and weak phonemic awareness which results in trouble learning to read which usually disappears late second or early third grade but reappears between fourth and eighth as a learning disability. Its common, guys, really common.


	40. The End

**Waitress**

"How many in your party ma'am?" I ask the middle aged woman in the front of the horde that has just invaded the diner.

"Ah…" she hedges, looking back.

"Hold still so Mom can count!" the man standing next to her hollers at the group.

"You don't know how many are in your family?" a middle aged man with glasses and a really fabulous grin says. Seriously, if he weren't old enough to be my father I'm pretty sure I'd be swooning.

"We're old Daniel, and not everyone here is family," the first man protests.

"They are all family, Jack," the woman replies.

"We've got the original SG-1, Cass and husband, and Ser and husband, Charlie and 'mate'" the woman replies, "So ten adults, and Emma, Jacob, Jon, and Ser's twins so three kids menus and two high chairs."

"You should have called the kids 'Jingleheimer Schmidt," the older man jokes to the youngest of the tall blond women.

"I am not a kid," one of the pre-teens complains.

"I believe in your society, adulthood is not conferred on the young until they have reached the age of eighteen," a huge black man says. Wow, he's intense.

"Just seat us in the zoo section," the bespectacled man says.

"I'll have you know my family is VERY well behaved," the older man objects.

"Apparently you aren't including my kids in that," the older of the youngish tall blonds says.

"Our kids? Angels," the man I assume is her husband says ruffling the hair of an eight or nine year old boy.

"So are you celebrating something?" I ask as I walk them to the table (in the soundproof backroom thank you very much, they do look like a zoo).

"Yep, my wife got a promotion. You are looking at a four star General!" the middle aged man explains.

"Really?" I say, impressed.

"Yeah, it only took me three decades to outrank my husband," she says.

"If I'd known that was your aim I would have stayed in the service for a bit longer, and made it harder for you," he says, giving her a kiss.

It's sweet when old people are in love.


End file.
